A Few Days in Paris 22
by sarapals with past50
Summary: Gil and Sara travel to Paris with 5 kids and a friend. All fluff, adventures with children. It's Paris-got to have a little bit of sweet smut, of course! Read and enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: After much discussion, this will not be the last story in this series--we have enough in our imaginations for one more. So enjoy! All fluff! Sweet stuff!_

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 1**

It had been easy to say no with a dozen reasons for her answer. But a dozen people, including her husband, said she should go. The Madam Curie Award was presented with a selectiveness that rivaled winning Powerball millions, and her co-researchers refused to take her "no" as a firm decision.

"Your airfare and hotel expenses will be paid," one insisted.

"We will be gone less than a week," another claimed. "You could go just for the dinner and presentation—three days max."

The attempted persuasions continued with no avail and no change in her response—until her husband and the lead researcher collaborated.

Gil Grissom sat across the desk from his wife. "You are going. This is a life-time recognition of your work—you may never be a part of this kind of project again—not one that gets this kind of award." His intense blue eyes watched her as she twirled a pen between her fingers, a frown puckering her forehead.

"It's too far, Gil. The kids will not be out of school. I can't leave them." She grinned. "I can't leave you—it's too much."

Unspoken was their past history; leaving five children with their father had not always worked as planned.

"What if we all went?"

Sara gaped with open mouth, surprised he would mention this possibility.

"I don't think we can afford a trip to Paris for seven."

He stood. "Tell them you will go. I'll figure out the rest of it." He chuckled. "Maybe we can stick Ava and Annie in a carry-on."

~~~Passports were a big deal; photographs taken, forms completed and mailed, and the wait began. Books about France and Paris were read and reread, movies watched again and again, and lists were made. Between homework and school and chores and play, the talk was of Paris—what to see, what to eat, what to say, and what to wear.

Eli and Bizzy, as the two oldest, had taken charge of planning and packing clothes and entertainment for their brother and twin sisters. Sara had been surprised at the willingness of the other children with this arrangement—she was certain there was some sibling agreement of give and take, but she was unaware of it. Eli had always been the leader of the pack—their father's current description of his children—but in the past few months, Sara had noticed a subtle change in roles. Her oldest daughter, sweet, easy-going, always complacent was becoming the chief organizer, planner, and coordinator; she was also the smartest with an uncanny ability to grasp the intangible.

Overhearing a conversation between Bizzy and her sisters, Sara heard the older girl explain how sharing of certain items meant more space for new things they could buy in Paris. Sara knew her oldest daughter had little interest in clothes, her favorites being jeans and simple shirts. But Ava and Annie thought of themselves as fashion icons and more ruffles, bows, lace, and ribbons translated to stylish flair for them.

As much as she was perplexed by the panache of her twins, Sara had worried unceasingly about Bizzy from the time the child began to use plastic numbers to add and subtract and by the time she was three, she was able to recognize numbers, divide and multiple with the ease most children were learning cartoon characters. It frightened Sara beyond words. Her fears were confirmed when, at age four, Grissom had taken Bizzy to a psychological and psychometrics examiner who confirmed what they knew with a battery of standardized and intelligence tests.

It took Sara much longer to accept the reality that her child was a genius while Grissom's response had been one of delight and, from Sara's viewpoint, one of unrealistic expectations. None of their friends were surprised by this child prodigy, hiding smiles as Sara managed to provide a clever and imaginative environment that stimulated and encouraged the child's natural ability while Grissom was teaching the toddler the scientific names of every bug and insect in the west. By the time Sara was pregnant with Will, Bizzy's innate personality of goodness and happiness, of an understanding of behavior beyond her years, made her a favorite of everyone, as she learned to hide her intelligence with surprising ease. Sara's fears for her daughter had been unproven—Bizzy had adapted to public school, had a small group of friends who accepted her wit and intelligence, and exceeded without fanfare in anything she attempted.

Sara and Grissom had been surprised at the response of their children to this trip. It was excitement and enthusiasm but a calmness that belied their ages. They learned words and phrases in French for greetings, foods, and simple questions. With a Paris map, they marked and circled a dozen places of interest, mapped the metro system, even ranked the best places to see. Eli, old enough to be interested in kings and wars, found an afternoon tour based on the French Revolution, and talked the others into including this tour after he described the workings of the guillotine.

Early one afternoon, before the kids returned from school, Sara heard Grissom talking on the phone, laughter coming from him as easily as breathing. She knew Catherine Willows was on the other end. The two had maintained a close, easy friendship that had continued when Grissom left Las Vegas.

Catherine had retired from the lab to be "a lady of leisure" as she self-described her retirement. However, she was also a wealthy woman as the primary survivor of Sam Braun's landholdings, casino interests, investments, stocks, and bonds, and whatever else the man had accumulated before his death years earlier. Catherine, her mother, and Lindsay had lived well, but without trappings of wealth for years, until Catherine learned just how much money can be made with rollovers, mergers, and return on investments.

Sara heard her name mentioned before her husband appeared in the kitchen.

"She's right here—very excited! The kids are thrilled—go over everything with Sara—I'll be there to pick you up." Grissom handed the phone to Sara, a grin spreading over his face.

Catherine did not stop talking because the phone changed hands. She talked as if she were assigning work with intentions of saying everything at once. Sara knew all this had been said before; that's why Grissom had passed the phone to Sara with that satisfied smile on his face.

As Catherine rattled off numbers and dates, Sara replied in one syllable words, checking her own list with Catherine's because Catherine was also going to Paris. She would arrive in two days and add to the chaos of packing and departing for a trip—a trip with five children and three adults to Paris for ten days. As Catherine continued to talk, Sara thought, not for the first time, she must have lost her mind to agree to this madness.

_A/N: Thanks for reading--now review--it does give us encouragement to continue!_


	2. Chapter 2

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 2**

A collective sigh floated gently through the gust of vented air created as the jet's engines were regulated and throttled for take-off. Sara looked around, making one last check of her surroundings. The two children beside her were smiling. She could see her husband talking to Will across the aisle. She slipped her hand between the seats in front of her and touched one child then another as the airplane began its journey to the runway.

She heard the soft voice of Catherine explaining take-off and landing procedures to Eli and Ava. Annie and Bizzy sat on either side of their mother; Annie was busy looking out the window as Bizzy read the safety card and turned to count rows to the nearest exit. Turning to her mother, the girl held up seven fingers and smiled.

Bizzy slipped her hand around her mother's arm. "This is fun, Mom. I'm so happy you decided we could all go to Paris!"

The airplane lifted from the ground, so quietly most of its passengers were unaware of its takeoff.

A child's voice from the row in front of Sara squealed before saying, "We're up in the air! This is so great!" Sara knew it was Ava.

Will turned to look at the people across the aisle, leaning forward he whispered, loud enough for several rows to hear, "Mom! We're flying—can you see? This is like a roller coaster, isn't it! It's like magic!"

Several people in adjoining rows chuckled. Sara hoped their good humor continued for the eleven hour flight ahead. Two of her children, Eli and Bizzy, were old enough to be nonchalant, or at least to give that impression. The other three could not contain their excitement and, even though they were well prepared for every conceivable procedure in check-in, security, boarding, and flight, they had been animated and energized from early morning.

Flat screens in front of each seat automatically came on showing safety features and information about the aircraft so for several minutes everyone's attention was on the monitor. They quickly fitted earphones into jacks; the two children beside Sara grinned as the screen scrolled through a variety of games and television shows and music.

Sara relaxed for the first time in days. She would be forever grateful to Catherine who had taken over housing arrangements. When this trip was first proposed and Sara finally agreed to go, very quickly Grissom decided the entire family should see Paris—a real vacation, he said. When the trip was mentioned to Catherine, she tentatively asked several questions, first to Grissom, later to Sara. It was Sara who invited her to go in a casual conversation.

"Go with us, Catherine. You deserve to see Paris!" Sara knew Catherine traveled with her mother—cruises, mostly, which Catherine had come to despise because of the sameness of every trip.

"You can only see so many Alaskan icebergs or Caribbean islands or Mexican coastlines before all of them look the same!" Catherine complained after her last trip. She had been to New York City, Hawaii, several Mexican resorts, but travel to Europe had been off limits—self-imposed for unknown reasons. And what she needed was an invitation.

Sara listed multiple negatives including, "It's with five kids."

Catherine responded, "I love your kids, all of them." Adding, "I am sure Ava and Annie could use a shopping companion." While she continued to live in Vegas with several trips to visit each year, Catherine took pleasure in her favored aunt status with the Grissom children. She verbally claimed to have no one favorite child, but, of course each one was special for different reasons.

Eli, Warrick Brown's only child, sat beside Catherine on the plane. She would never forget her shock at learning of his existence—hours after Warrick's death. Before he was three, the boy was living with Gil and Sara, and in a year, he had been officially adopted by them. His green eyes and gangly long legs and arms reminded her of the man she had loved and, at times, still longed for. But Catherine lived in the present; she saw Eli for himself, not as his father. She could listen as the boy spoke of his love for cars, his love of music, his love for everything surrounding his life as Eli Grissom.

The blonde, blue eyed angel on her left was her namesake—Ava Catherine Grissom—of course, few people ever called her by the entire name. She and her sister, Annie, were physically nearly identical to a casual onlooker—Ava had a birthmark on her chest, Annie was left-handed—but there were differences in their personalities. Ava was an instigator, the mastermind, the troublemaker—if you believed the parents. She was the child who encouraged others, especially her sister, in all kinds of activities and behaviors that usually led to mischievous trouble with their parents. Catherine had listened to Sara and Grissom tell of trials and tribulations caused by the twins and they always added "where do they get this?" Catherine had laughed for years; she had not known either parent as a child, but had her reasons for believing the girls got a double dose of inquisitive genes.

Catherine's thoughts were interrupted by a question from the little girl, "Aunt Catherine, do we live down there? Can you pick out our house?" The child's nose was pressed to the window as the plane continued to gain altitude.

"It's down there somewhere, sweetie, but we can't pick it out." Catherine touched the seatbelt around the child.

Ava turned to her, eyes serious, as she said, "We have to keep our seatbelts fastened during flight except if we go to the bathroom."

Catherine bit her lip and smiled, agreeing. Except for Bizzy, three of these children were replicas of their father. She had seen the same expression on his face; words come out of his mouth in the same way this child spoke. She knew how Sara loved these children because Catherine knew how much Sara loved Grissom.

As the flight continued, the amazement of the extraordinariness of travel did not diminish but weariness finally caused sleep to come to the children. The three adults had moved to aisle seats and talked in low voices until fatigue found sleep for them as well. The smell of breakfast woke everyone and the idea of breakfast in an airplane flying over the ocean started the giggles so that by the time food trays were placed before five children, they were fully awake, fidgeting and restless with potential energy.

It was important to their mother that some semblance of normal routine be maintained so the two boys and three girls brushed their teeth and changed shirts in the small airline bathrooms before announcements were made to prepare for landing. The sun was up and below them they could see the green landscape, the network of highways, and cities, towns, and villages of France.

In much less time than it took to board, they made their way off the plane with each person but Catherine carrying a backpack. She had an expensive roll-aboard and a shoulder bag which matched her one piece of checked luggage. Grissom and Sara had insisted on minimal packing and quickly pulled three suitcases from the luggage claim.

Will was the first to speak French. Seeing a man holding a sign with "Grissom" on it, he waved a hand and said, "Bonjour, Monsieur".

The shuttle van had been pre-arranged and with the driver's assistance, everyone and everything was packed and leaving the airport quickly. The kids read signs, pointed to brown delivery trucks they recognized, and squealed with delight when the Eiffel Tower was spotted in the distance.

Catherine had taken the responsibility of finding a place to stay, and using travel agents of the casino, she had rented an apartment, advertised with three bedrooms, three bathrooms, a family friendly home. She held her breath as the van turned into a short cul-de-sac and the driver pointed to a five-story building.

"This is your address," he said. "It is a good place—wonderful cafés and near the park for the children!"

The renting agent met them at the door, explaining keys and showing how to operate the tiny elevator which was large enough to hold suitcases as she pressed buttons and pointed to the stair case.

"Fourth floor," she said, which meant the top floor the adults realized as they climbed the stairs. The children did not notice as their shoes squeaked on the old stone steps and they whisper-shouted to each other to watch the elevator as it ascended with them or to look from windows on each landing. They waited patiently but eagerly for the four adults to catch up and managed to drag the luggage from the elevator before their parents arrived.

A word from Sara had all five children shouldering their backpacks and quietly lining up as the agent opened the door to the apartment.

When Catherine saw the first room, she breathed out a sigh of relief—it was better than described. Grissom grinned. Sara glanced at Catherine and nodded. Seeing the open area of the living room, a large dining table, and the kitchen was enough for them to know this was a good place—lots of space, large windows, and functional furniture.

The agent was opening doors to bedrooms, talking in accented English, showing the children one of the bedrooms.

"Catherine, it's perfect," Sara whispered. The two women smiled as Grissom followed his kids into a bedroom.

"One room has stacked beds—bunk beds," Catherine explained. "I'll go in the room with the three singles and share with the girls."

Sara shook her head. "No, we've talked about this, Cath. You take the master suite—Gil and I will be fine in that room—and at least one of the kids will be sleeping with us."

Catherine placed hands on her hips and laughed before whispering, "This is Paris, Sara. Take the big bedroom, get romantic," her elbow touched Sara's rib. "I know you two enjoy each other," she giggled. "How else does Gil stay so young looking?"

Sara flushed. She giggled just as Grissom appeared. "Bunk beds!" He said. He looked at the two women. "What are you two talking about?"

The agent placed extra keys in a bowl, explained how to work fans, the television, the air conditioner, and the clothes washer-dryer, and left them with guidebooks, maps, and instructions to call with any questions. By the time the door closed, five children had explored each bedroom, each bathroom—flushing toilets and stepping into the tiny showers—before their dad called a halt to their adventures.

"Time to get organized," he called and within minutes, they were standing in front of him.

Grissom and Sara and their children had always surprised Catherine. At one time, if she could have predicted their future, it would not have been this, but seeing Grissom assigning beds and each child nodding in agreement, she remembered him handing out crime scene assignments years ago. A thought, an epiphany of the commonplace occurred to her—his family was built in the same way Grissom had gathered his team, taught them, given them independence and knowledge.

He was saying, "One of you can sleep in the next bedroom with your mom and me—Annie, will you do that?"

Catherine interrupted, "No, Gil. I'm taking that room. We—the girls can bond!" She saw all three girls smile. "And there is a chaise lounge in there," she waved a hand. "Let's get our things put away because Paris is at our door step!"

Grissom looked at Sara who shrugged and smiled.

_A/N: Enjoy this 'long' chapter. We will be away for two days, so check back late Monday, perhaps Tuesday morning! Thanks for reading--and especially those reviews!_


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading! _

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 3**

~~Because of jet lag and the need to release bottled up energy, the first afternoon was spent walking the neighboring streets, eating at a small café, finding a splendid park with a playground with swings, climbing ladders and slides, and a vintage carousel. Grissom happily paid Euros for three turns for each child so they could sit atop a giraffe, an elephant, a reindeer or a horse. Each child got a short wooden stick or baton to catch metal rings held by an attendant who quickly determined skill level based on the size of the child. Bizzy and Eli, who might have decided carousel riding was too childish in another place, jumped on the weather beaten animals, encouraging their brother and sisters to catch rings, before using their sticks to spear a ring on every rotation. Their laughter and chatter quieted only when ice cream and popsicles were in hands and mouths.

Catherine and Grissom watched from green metal chairs as the children returned to swings, Sara following behind them, lifting Will to a swing beyond his reach, and pushing him before turning to the girls. Their laughter and words floated indistinctly back to the two in chairs.

"Did you ever think—imagine—your life would be this?" Catherine asked without taking her eyes away from the playing children.

Grissom grunted; Catherine knew it was a laugh. "I never imagined this," he said. He cleared his throat and even though more than a decade had passed since they worked together, Catherine knew it signaled more to come. He continued, "In Vegas, I thought I had found my passion—work—but when Warrick died, I knew I had lost the drive to continue. You didn't—you and Nick saw work as your salvation, your tribute to Warrick. Then Sara left—and she did leave me that time." He waved a hand. "The year before, she left Vegas, the lab, all that happened, but not me."

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, never looking at Catherine. "I knew I had to go, I had to become a different person—I had to be a part of her life because she was already all of mine."

"You have a good family—good kids."

Eli had climbed a swinging ladder, reached for his brother, and tugged him onto the ladder with him. The little boy turned and waved at his mother, then his father.

"It's Sara, Catherine. She is a good person—more than good, its goodness in everything she does." He laughed again. "I would describe her as virtuous—moral goodness and righteousness—no one uses that word any more. She is consistent, stable; the kids know what is expected of them."

One of the twins jumped from her swing, fell, got up, brushed her knee and said something to her mother. Sara turned to find Grissom and Catherine, nodded, and the child ran toward her father.

"Bizzy is so much like Sara." Grissom nodded his head in the direction of his wife and daughter. His hand raked across his face. "Every day, I want to give them what Sara missed in childhood."

He laughed as Ava arrived in front of them, followed a few minutes later by her twin. Grissom pulled Ava up to sit on his knee, wrapped an arm around Annie. "These two girls love to shop, Catherine."

The two girls giggled and talked, asked questions and did not wait for answers before jumping to another subject as they waited for the others to join them.

~~Before darkness came, children were bathed, bedded, and promised an entire day of exciting adventures; three adults collapsed and complained of tiredness, jet lag, and the need to sleep. Catherine disappeared into a bedroom shared with two little girls.

Sara moved to sit beside her husband, taking his hand in hers. "This is a good idea. Did you see how much fun they had in the playground? And at the café—who knew Will would be so good at French!"

Grissom chuckled. He knew his children were brilliant. "What's on for tomorrow?"

Sara stood, pulling him with her. "Louvre—the guided tour." She gave a time and motioned toward the empty bedroom.

None of the three bedrooms was large and the bed in this one nearly took up the entire floor. A small cabinet sat against one wall next to the bathroom door, closets and shelves lined another, and triple windows provided a night time view of Paris. Sara opened one of the windows.

"Look at the lights," she whispered as Grissom wrapped arms around her. "And there's music."

Somewhere in the neighborhood, music played, drifting softly to the top floor, as if a hidden orchestra was providing a private concert.

In seconds, his arms left her, the warmth of his body absent from hers. In another second, she heard the latch slip into place and he was back. Seconds passed before they were both removing clothing as fast as humanly possible. There had been too many nights of commitments and interruptions and fatigue prior to traveling that the sudden and intense need to feel the other surprised both and they both began to laugh.

He lightly traced fingers over sensitive skin of her back, along her waist, and flattened his palms against her butt to pull her against his body. He kissed her, deeply, letting her feel the extent of his arousal before taking a step back toward the bed. Their feet tangled on discarded clothing, both lost their balance, and tumbled onto the mattress, laughing. Grissom landed on his back, Sara sprawled on top, both laughing harder, trying to stifle the sound. Sara buried her mouth against his neck as he attempted to shush his laughs with his hand.

"You are going to wake everyone," Sara finally whispered as she pulled herself away from his face, deciding to kiss him because his mouth was right below hers. And he returned her kiss and their hands warmed and fingers played until the eventual happenings in the course making love occurred.

Later, Sara lay drifting off to sleep, her back pressed firmly against her husband's chest, his heat seeping into her and his arms holding her tightly. As always, she was overwhelmed by the peace and pleasure she found in the presence of this man she loved so totally. She loved this nearness, always touching, nestling close, even when one of the children tugged at their covers and wanted to join them.

With that thought, Sara slipped from the bed, unlatched the bedroom door, found a shirt and pulled it over her head. She folded sleeping pants and put them on the bed for Grissom and crawled back into place before the sheets cooled. Grissom grunted and tugged her closer to his chest. She quickly fell into an undisturbed sleep.

_A/N: And we always appreciate your comments! More to come..._


	4. Chapter 4

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 4**

Sara woke with the sensation of something scratchy with a lovely aroma near her face. She opened her eyes to see her husband's face hovering over her. He smiled, blue eyes sparkling, and disheveled hair giving him the look of his young son. It took a moment to realize he held a cup of hot coffee and he had kissed her cheek.

"Everyone's asleep—I figured out the coffee maker," he said placing the cup on a shelf beside the bed. He cupped her face in his hands, caressing soft thumbs over her cheeks. "I love you, Sara. It's something I should say more often." He kissed her again, a slow, tender kiss, embracing her securely in his arms as he managed to slide into bed.

Sara was the one who noticed the slow movement of the bedroom door. She mumbled "Company" in Grissom's ear. He didn't remove his arms, or his lips from her neck, but a sigh escaped against her skin. Sara motioned for whoever was behind the door to enter—knowing it was usually at least two children.

Bizzy's dark hair and blue eyes appeared. "Can I come in?"

Hearing her voice, Grissom pulled one arm away from his wife and motioned for his daughter to join them in bed. In three strides, she was beside them, smiling as they made room for her between them.

"I'm the only one awake—other than you," She snuggled underneath covers with a smile that reflected her mother's. "Today's the Louvre—I'm so excited! It took forever for me to sleep and Eli and Will were snoring in thirty seconds! How can they sleep when we are in Paris?"

Her parents knew their daughter had prepared for this trip by reading a dozen books about Paris—novels, history, and travel books. She had found movies for everyone to watch; even Will had watched an old spy movie and part of a romantic comedy. She had practiced certain words and sentences in French with the precision of a translator and worked with everyone on polite phrases and basic requests.

Grissom chuckled, stumbling before he got out the correct question in French, "Votre chamber ne vous convient pas, Madame?" (_Your room does not suit you, Madam?_)

Bizzy immediately said, "Oui! C'est un appartement charmant! La chambre," she started giggling, "Elle est tres jolie. Le frères—le probleme!" (_Yes! It is a charming apartment! The bedroom, it is very pretty. The brothers—the problem!_)

By the time she finished, her mother and father were laughing. Grissom hugged her. "I'll sleep on the bottom bunk and you can sleep with your mom—will that be better?"

Bizzy shook her head. "I'm fine, Daddy. Really—the bed is fine. You and Mom deserve a room all to yourselves." She burrowed her head against his shoulder. "Except for early mornings."

Grissom shook the covers. "You two have had enough beauty sleep—it's time to get up, make enough noise to wake the others." His fingers tickled his daughter's ribs causing her to double up with laughter. She was young enough to enjoy this play, and with ease he circled her waist and lifted her from the bed. "Come along with me—we'll open shades, rattle around in the kitchen, and wake everyone up." He winked at Sara as he carried the child out the door; Bizzy's giggles fading as he closed the bedroom door.

In another bedroom, life continued to amaze Catherine—especially the life she observed with Gil Grissom's children on this first day in Paris. She lazily woke in a room with two sleeping children, smiling to no one as she looked at their rumbled beds and pillows covered with curly hair. She remembered Lindsay being the same age; she had not spent enough time enjoying her daughter's childhood, she thought. Hearing no other sounds but their breathing, she showered and dressed, found her guidebook and propped up in bed to read about famous landmarks and neighborhoods and department stores of Paris. Gradually, she thought she smelled coffee, but decided it must be coming from outside the open window. Only when she heard giggles did she decide to leave the bedroom.

Will and Bizzy were placing bowls and tumblers on the table. Eli was pouring cereal into each bowl; Gil and Sara were in the kitchen standing close together. As they turned to look at her—she knew—some mysterious signal between the two, a hand or simple movement that told nothing—she recognized the look of recent sex and an easy, sly grin crossed her face.

Pointedly, she looked at Sara. "Good morning, everyone! This place is very quiet—I heard nothing all night!" She stressed the last three words. "Looks like everyone slept well last night—my roommates are still sleeping." Her eyes went to Grissom and he grinned.

"Great, Catherine—just great." Sara smiled and dropped her head.

By the time cereal was in eight bowls—Eli had raised the cereal box and she nodded—Catherine had a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter to watch. Sara disappeared to wake the twins, Bizzy placed a banana beside every bowl, Will brought yogurt from the refrigerator, and Grissom sliced cheese and bread. Eli poured two kinds of juice into glasses—all accomplished with the ease of something done every day and by the time Ava and Annie arrived, still in their nightgowns, the others were sliding into chairs. Catherine was to see this repeated every morning with little change—different fruits, new cheeses and breads—but the children ate without complaints, cleaned their places by placing bowls and glasses in the kitchen, and left the table to dress for the day.

It was an incredible feat in Catherine's mind when she remembered the tangled conflicts with her own daughter—disagreements over what to wear, what to eat, so many things that did not matter in the long run. She decided it was the difference in having one child and having five.

~~For three days, along with other tourists, three adults and five children consumed Paris. Each morning they left the apartment with guidebooks and a planned agenda—or at least a destination of sights to see. Sara and Catherine had planned and reserved several activities, tours designed for children, long walks that included play time in Paris parks, and 'must see' places, monuments, several churches, even a cemetery. As much as possible, they walked in early mornings, rode the Metro later, ate delicious foods from small cafés and snacks from street venders. By the end of the day, their last stop was a neighborhood grocery for breakfast foods and a boulangerie for breads, pastries, and small jars of honey, jams, figs, and strawberries.

The first day, they had reserved a treasure hunt in the Louvre with an English speaking guide taking them through the history of masterpieces with a guidebook of clues specifically designed for children. The hunt for lions and eagles, full moons and setting suns, breads and bunches of grapes consumed everyone's attention as they walked through halls of ancient paintings, statues, engravings, and carved stones.

The Louvre's Egyptian collection of kings and queens, cats and baboons, captured their attention as the tour guide explained a culture of thousands of years. Renaissance sculptures of knights and their wives, the meaning of the lions and the dogs, fascinated everyone as they marveled at the realistic details of the carvings. The guide smiled and looked away as a small finger lightly touched the delicate tongue of a stone carved dog. She had to giggle with the others when the father placed his hand on the boy's shoulder causing the child to jump in guilt before laughing at being caught touching something just above a little white sign reminding visitors not to touch the objects.

_A/N: Thanks for reading--leave a review, a comment, let us know you are reading. A little unplanned adventure coming up which includes Catherine. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 5**

For day two, the Eiffel Tower, Gustave's massive skeleton of iron, and its gardens took an entire day to explore as they climbed steps, rode the elevator, and ate at its restaurant—a reservation Catherine had arranged within hours of deciding to go with them and insisted on paying for everyone's meal. At four hundred feet above Paris, they managed to eat as they marveled at the magnificent city. Desserts brought everyone's attention to the table as eight different desserts were placed before each person. Chocolate soufflé, coconut cake, lime sorbet, strawberries and cream, macrons, and almond financiers were tasted with delicate bites and shared as whispered exclamations of "best thing ever" or "most delicious food" or "I can die now" went around the table. For Catherine, as she arranged payment for the meal, she knew the meal was worth every Euro to see the expressions on faces of the children. She would remember with amazement the well-behaved, well-mannered children as they ate surrounded by adults in this historic place.

In the late afternoon, with a cloudless sky, Grissom purchased a black French hat to wear, which was blown from his head with a sudden gust of wind just as Catherine took three quick photographs of the family. The five children ran after the sailing hat as a dozen other children joined in the chase before it was captured; Sara, Catherine, and Grissom laughed so hard their sides ached as kids ran and tumbled, shouted and laughed as the flat cap smoothly floated and glided just out of reach until it was snagged by a willowy tree. Eli and Bizzy cupped their hands to form a ladder for Will to reach the hat, and before his hand could touch it, the cap fell to the ground where their sisters leaped and sprawled to cover it, quickly joined by the others. A playful game followed which involved rolling down a grassy slope and racing to the top as fast as possible until each child collapsed around the feet of the adults—the wayward hat firmly on their dad's head.

Grissom's announcement that it was time to ride the Metro generated enough excitement and energy to get them to their apartment with stops for cold drinks and street crepes filled with Nutella and bananas.

~~"You two organize them as a little team—actually, I never appreciated how well we worked together in Vegas until both of you were gone." Catherine said as Sara handed her a glass of wine. She was exhausted, but managed to stay on her feet until dinner was prepared, kids fed, bathed and in bed, and the shirts and jeans worn today were in the small washer. A glass of wine would be enough to put her to sleep where she sat.

"It's Sara," Grissom answered—he had collapsed on the sofa before Catherine had taken the seat across from him—as he held up a hand to Sara. "Sit, honey. I'll help clean up later. Let's just talk."

Before joining them, Sara threw clothes into the dryer, then snuggled against Grissom's shoulder. The three friends talked of Paris and plans for the days ahead, of absent friends, of shared experiences, and of children.

Catherine spoke of Lindsay. "I hold onto hope she'll make me a grandmother before I get too old to enjoy babies!" Catherine laughed, shaking her head. "She loves working in Sam Braun's business—construction, casinos, hotels—everyone knows her name. Old Sam is smiling somewhere knowing Lindsay is taking care of his business."

Sara asked about Catherine's mother which began a dialogue of mother-daughter trips. "Twice we got Lindsay to go with us—that was enough! She said she would rather take a cruise with a boatload of pirates than with us." Catherine grinned and winked. "I think it was the competition—she didn't like Mom and me flirting with the young guys on the cruise!"

Grissom poured more wine. Conversation slowed and eyes blinked closed until someone suggested "beds". Catherine watched as Sara and Grissom disappeared into their bedroom. After all these years, she remembered her open-mouth shock at hearing Grissom declaring Sara was the only woman he had ever loved. Days afterward, Greg and Warrick had admitted their knowledge of the relationship—incomplete as Catherine learned much later when she discovered a photograph on Grissom's refrigerator.

She smiled as she heard murmured voices from the bedroom as she washed and rinsed wine glasses. She thought of the clothes and folded five pairs of jeans and five shirts along with the colorful underwear of the kids. As she did so, she thought, no one would have predicted this—Gil Grissom, that lonely workaholic, confirmed bachelor until he was fifty, would be father to five children. She laughed softly as she headed to bed. Funny how life worked out, she thought.

~~A young woman arrived the third day to lead an exploration of Paris neighborhoods; a trail marked by stories of stone cutters and medieval passageways, of narrow streets, and ancient bridges. She explained the makings of stained glass windows and the stories told in certain windows, the use of colors—some very rare—to bring light inside, and how these priceless masterpieces were safeguarded in times of war.

They entered several buildings on this tour, but one, the Palace of Justice or Palais de Justice, was one of greatest interest when the guide told of nearly three thousand people being sentenced to the guillotine in less than two years. The boys wanted to see blood; the girls grimaced and frowned at their brothers appalling fascination with execution.

Later that day, when they stood on the brass plate marking the spot where the king and queen were decapitated, all five children giggled and pretended to chop another's head off with their hands. And as this tour was about history and wars, kings and those who wanted to be king, they walked around the monuments of Napoleon and rode the elevator to the top of the Arc de Troimphe and raced each other down the stairway.

Their walking tour ended on the Seine—just in time for a Batobus, a boat operating as hop-on, hop-off transportation along the river. Quick votes were taken to decide where to disembark and all hands decided a visit to the chapel with the most stained glass should be their next stop. Sainte Chapelle did not disappoint, even with its long waiting line and narrow stairs.

The upper chapel with its thirteenth century stained glass in eighty-five panels glowed in the late afternoon sun. The tall windows, each telling a story of the Bible, sparkled with red, blue, and gold colors which created prisms of light inside the tall chapel. Bizzy stood in one spot turning in a circle.

"Beautiful, isn't it," Grissom whispered. Of their children, Bizzy was the only one with an interest in religion, even though he took them to church services several times a year, and they read and knew the stories of the Bible.

"The apostles are carved on each pillar," she pointed to the slim arches beside each window. The others had wandered around the room pointing to recognizable figures in windows and returned to Bizzy and their father.

Sara asked them questions about the making of the windows which they had heard from their tour guide earlier in the day. "What gives the color to the glass?" She asked. A course of five voices provided the answers of gold, nickel, iron, copper, and cobalt.

"It has to be powdered," Will added, "Not just chunks of stuff!"

"Did you find the story of David?" Sara asked.

Ava pointed to a window and then changed direction. "No, that's Joseph—David," she pointed to another, "is there."

Sara asked several other questions. Catherine smiled behind her hand. She knew Sara had never been religious yet she knew the names and the stories.

When Grissom suggested a tour of the old prison, practically next door, the kids lined up and followed him down the stairway with Sara and Catherine bringing up the rear.

"Okay," Catherine said as the stepped into the sunlight, "I have to know two things."

Sara nodded.

"The lining up behind Grissom—what's the deal with that?"

Sara laughed. "When there are five, there are not enough hands to go around, so we line up. Bizzy first, Eli last, then me. That way, we know everyone is accounted for—and Gil leads the way." She dropped her voice to a whisper, "And usually he knows where we're going."

"And the Bible stories—you know the names, the stories. I did not think you were religious."

Again, Sara smiled. "I'm not. My mother was—Gil is—even though he would never admit it. He takes us to church several times a year. As a child, I went—more interested in the saints and what made them saints than anything else." Again, she dropped her voice. "I'm scared to death that Bizzy might decide to become a nun. She loves spending time with our neighbors and they love her, so I keep her interested in science, try for a balance."

_A/N: Another chapter soon--reviews appreciated!_


	6. Chapter 6

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 6**

The entrance line was not long for the Conciergerie and they were in the guardroom in minutes, moving into a huge Gothic hall, as a guide explained the use of these rooms as a banquet hall before becoming a holding jail for those awaiting execution during the revolution. The execution comments brought about hand signals and elbow punches from the kids. They climbed a spiral staircase to the palace kitchen with its huge fireplaces in each corner and tried to imagine three thousand meals being prepared in one day.

They walked by tiny rooms, including one where Marie-Antoinette was imprisoned, and a room where names of each person executed during the French Revolution were written.

"Why did they kill so many people?" Annie asked, her clear voice ringing against stone walls. "And why did they chop their heads off? What happened to the heads?"

Sara and Catherine looked at Grissom for his explanation as the children waited.

He said, "Remember the revolution—the people in France wanted to be like the people in the United States—not have a king. So a lot of those people who were killed wanted a king, or they were his friends. I think they chopped off heads because it was quick—and they buried their heads with them." He stopped talking and waved a hand before continuing, "Or maybe they put the heads on the front porch like we do pumpkins at Halloween."

His last comment brought giggles and the now familiar 'hand across the back of the neck motion' to one of their sisters from the two boys. Back outside, they crossed the river and bought flowers and pastries and cheeses and breads from different shops as they walked. By now, the children were confident enough to speak French in the shops and the shopkeepers responded kindly.

A simple "Merci" from young American children brought smiles and a request for a post card or ice cream in French brought pleasant replies.

~~That night, Bizzy and Eli were up late having been designated as the "planners" for the next two days. Sara would be meeting with other researchers for two days before the official presentation ceremony for their award, and everyone assured her they would stay busy without her but would not go to places she wanted to see.

"The boats," Eli said, "the ones we saw in the park. That would be fun—everyone could do that. Dad, can we rent bikes to ride?"

"And we could ride the carousal again—really compete for the rings this time." Bizzy had spread a Paris map across the table. "Mom, do you want to go to the cemetery and Notre Dame? What about Sacre' Coeur? Or we could so see the catacombs!"

Sara, Grissom, and Catherine were half listening to the children's planning; Grissom's eyes were closed and Catherine thought he had fallen asleep until his toes moved and he raised his hand.

"Bikes for Versailles—I know I can't take two days on a bicycle. Something tells me Ava and Annie would balk at seeing all those bones." Grissom stretched, got up and moved to the table. "Park sounds good—give your old dad a day to rest."

Eli giggled; Bizzy's arm went around her dad's waist. "You're not old, Dad."

Before going to bed, the two kids had plans made for the next day; Catherine knew she could use a day of less walking and she was almost certain that Grissom had breathed a sigh of relief with their plans for the park.

The next morning, Sara was up earlier than usual, dressed in black slacks and a cream colored shirt, with Ava and Annie following her through the apartment as she answered a dozen questions.

"I want to wear my dress today. Why can't I wear it today and tomorrow?" Ava had folded her jeans away and brought her dress from the closet. She persisted in holding it in front of her even after her mother had twice asked her to hang it up.

Catherine watched from the kitchen as mother and daughter had a conversation that was at once similar to Catherine yet different.

Sara knelt in front of the child. "Ava, you have one dress—your nice dress—not a play dress. This one is for the ceremony tomorrow night, not the park." Sara brushed the curly hair back from her daughter's face and kissed her cheek. "Now, hang up the dress and put on your jeans—you will play in those."

Annie's arm went around her mother's neck. "Can I go with you, Mommy? Please?"

"I wish you could. But I'm going to be inside all day—and it's a beautiful day! No boats or carousal or crepes to eat!" She hugged both girls. "You be good today for your dad and Aunt Catherine. Don't fall into the water, okay?"

No one fell into the octagonal pond as the children learned the art of sailing a small boat with a long stick. No one fell from a wooden horse as they stretched for metal rings. Grissom happily paid for multiple carousal rides and sat in a green chair watching a puppet show in French. He and Catherine followed as the children raced around the park statues giving names to each one. They ate chocolate crepes and sandwiches of eggs and cheese and tomatoes.

As the day passed, Catherine and Grissom talked and were joined at times by one child or all five. Bizzy joined them, talking about the statues in the park; Eli arrived and they talked about cars and motorcycles. Will, Ava, and Annie came with questions and giggles, climbed onto Catherine's lap and rested, before returning to play. By late afternoon, new plans had been made for the next day. The boys and their father were going to a medieval museum with knights and stone heads of French kings, swords and shields and cannons and other weapons of war. The girls were going shopping with Catherine.

By the time they reached the apartment, Sara had returned and was preparing their evening meal. An observer would think the children had not seen their mother in days by the welcome given. Everyone talked at once; at least four times, Catherine heard their stories of sailing boats and how many times they rode the carousal. In subtle and reserved ways, Catherine noticed Grissom had also missed his wife. He waited with good-natured patience as his kids got hugs and kisses and crowded around their mother, but after arriving, he never left her side. Sara would reach for a hand towel and find it in Grissom's hand. He would smile; she would place a finger along his jaw.

Catherine sat at the table and watched—more than ten years had passed since Sara and Gil had left Vegas, she thought. She knew they had been in love all those years ago and, as she watched them work in the kitchen with five children making noise around them, she realized they were more than husband and wife. They were lovers in the midst of a love affair—in the middle of raising their children. Suddenly, the well-behaved children were no longer a puzzle or an abnormality or aberration. They reflected what they saw in their parents. She made a sound, a quiet snort, half laugh, that caused Sara to give her a perplexed look.

"You okay?" Sara asked.

Catherine nodded, "I am. I had a great time today."

Bizzy draped an arm across Catherine's shoulders. "Tomorrow, Aunt Catherine is taking us shopping—that's our plans."

Annie climbed into the chair beside Catherine and added her arm to Bizzy's. "It's a shopping spree! Daddy said we could have money to spend."

Ava was dancing around the room, singing. She came to a halt, spread her arms, and sang in imperfect French, "_J'ai vu des chaussures dans la vitrine! Vous voulex me les montrer_?" (I saw some shoes in the window! Would you show them to me?) Once she saw everyone laughing at her performance, she changed shoes to "_la robe_" and then to "_ruban_"; the others joined her in adding words into her song—_bijoux_ and _parfum_ and, the word for underwear stumped the girls until Catherine added "_lingerie_". They giggled and laughed and ran in circles until Sara called a halt to play, gave a hand washing motion that sent them into bathrooms.

"Do they ever fight or get angry with each other?" Catherine asked once they had disappeared.

Grissom grunted while Sara laughed at her question. "Yes," they both said.

_A/N: Traffic numbers show a few people are looking at this story, but are you reading it? Review? Comment? Let us hear from you before we decide there is more fun in stalking long-lost CSI supervisors!_


	7. Chapter 7

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 7**

Much later, because playing in the park without their mother meant each of her children wanted her attention so Sara left Catherine and Grissom cleaning the kitchen and doing nightly laundry as she laid out clothing for the next day, combed hair, tucked the boys into top bunks and Bizzy into a lower bed all the while followed by the twins who seemed to be stuck with glue to their mother's side. Ava and Annie were the last to crawl into beds, both almost asleep before Sara pulled covers around them, getting a sleepy promise to be good girls while shopping.

Quietness descended on the apartment as children slept and the adults quietly talked about the next day activities.

"Catherine, you do not have to take the girls to one of the big stores. They will be thrilled to walk into any little shop along the street—you don't have to walk more than three or four blocks," Sara said as she joined Grissom and Catherine.

"No, we are going to Printemps and Galleries Lafayette! Every girl needs to shop the famous stores at least once—even you," she teased.

Grissom fished his wallet out of his pocket, removed all the paper money in it, and tossed it toward Catherine. "Don't let them spend more than this."

Catherine did not touch the bills, but laughed. "I'll tell you what—let us shop tomorrow and I'll give you the bill afterwards. Keep your money—plastic is better." She yawned. "All this fresh air and French food and wine put me to sleep! Or the carbs and chocolate—I sleep as soundly as Ava and Annie."

~~Grissom had showered earlier and stretched across the bed with one of the tourist guidebooks intent on mapping out the easiest route to the museum for the next day. He heard the same music they had heard their first night. His eyes closed, his head dropped, and his glasses slid to the end of his nose.

Sara hurriedly finished her shower, tied her hair back, and pulled her surprise out of a very small shopping bag she had earlier hidden behind the towels. She grinned as she thought of Catherine's shopping remark—Catherine was not the only one thinking about shopping in Paris. Years ago, Sara had learned of a certain passion or predilection Grissom had for one piece of clothing and she pulled the plum colored silk up her legs. The panties fit just below her waist, high at the hip in the style called French-cut. She thought it appropriate as she slipped the silk and lace tee shirt of the same color over her head. Grissom would be surprised, she thought with a smile.

Years ago, she had asked him if they would always be like this—passionate with desire for each other. He had been silent for several minutes before answering. "Sara, I will always love you, desire you above everything else. In twenty or thirty years, our love will be stronger, we will have memories and hardships, and we will love each other even stronger." He had laughed and held her close, saying "Maybe we will not be tearing clothes off once the door is closed or making love three times a day, but we will love each other."

In the bedroom, Grissom slept with one arm across her pillow as if he had been reaching for her before falling asleep. He was lulled awake by the pleasurable sensation of lips nuzzling and kissing his neck as soft warm fingers removed his glasses.

"Hmmm…" He sighed and hugged her tightly, seeking her lips and kissing her slowly and then with increasing passion as she responded. Once he realized his hands were touching silky fabric, he broke away. "What's this?" A grin spread across his face, his fingers running along the low neckline.

"I did a little shopping on my way home," she whispered while running fingers through his hair. She made a quiet throaty laugh. "But if you are sleepy…"

His hands pushed the fabric of her shirt upward and he noticed her panties. A deep chuckle started in his chest. He dropped the hem of the shirt as his fingers slid to her waist, hooking thumbs against her skin and the fabric. "Excellent, excellent choice, Mrs. Grissom." He rolled her onto the bed, kissing her shoulder before peeling the shirt over her head. She giggled. "That didn't last long," he whispered. He kissed the exposed skin starting at her collarbone and working downward between her breasts, holding her with one hand while the other stroked with feather touches, no urgency in his actions—yet.

They lay facing each other for a while, kissing, touching, legs wrapped, allowing their desire to rise gradually. Sara moaned softly as her back arched and hands moved over his shoulders.

"You are wearing too many clothes."

Briefly, Grissom's hand left her body to pull his shirt over his head. His fingers resumed their task of working a path from her neck to her belly, his lips followed. He pulled at the elastic band with his teeth, gently letting it snap against her skin before doing it again. His hands caressed her hips and backside before sliding one hand between her legs. He heard another soft moan as she rocked her hips.

Her hands were not idle; she caressed his back, gliding fingers along his shoulders and spine, entangling fingers in his hair. Enough light came from the window for him to see the dark fabric against her creamy skin.

"Sara, sweet Sara, I need you." Gently, his thumb moved underneath the dark silk; his fingers followed finding her warm and damp. He sought her lips, kissing deeply, starved for each other's breath and taste. Tongues found teeth and lips, arms and hands found intimate contact with bare skin.

"I…miss…you…every…minute…you…are…not…with…me," she whispered, spacing every word with a kiss as he pushed his pants to his ankles and kicked them away. Then he was back against her, his hips pressing against her before he found his place.

Over the years their lovemaking had changed, evolving as they learned more about each other and how to prolong and control their passions for stamina to prolong the act, yet their unions were always intense and gratifying. Tonight, surprised from his sleep and by the plum garments of his wife, Grissom had responded with an unusual urgency.

Sara's bold playfulness, her lips and hands touching him in sensitive places, caused another moan to escape his mouth which made her cover his mouth with hers as she whispered, "Quiet, dear," before she giggled.

It was powerful; Grissom's release came in a blinding flash, and several minutes passed before he knew Sara had also reached the feminine equivalent of his passion. Her fingernails pressed into his back before softening their grip, her muscles relaxed, but she held him within her. For a few minutes, neither spoke; Sara's dark eyes reflected all he needed to know.

They lay entwined in happy exhaustion; Sara pressed her face against his neck, inhaling his masculine smell, content and satiated. She found words first.

"I need to shop more often," she whispered.

"You know I love you regardless of what you wear." Grissom's voice was deep and mellow, a husky whisper. "But I do love taking them off."

"I am a little afraid about tomorrow—the girls going shopping."

A rumble came from Grissom, "They will be fine. Catherine loves them; they love her. Ava seems to be on her best behavior—I think she wants her Aunt Catherine to believe she's a good little girl."

He wrapped arms and legs around his wife. "We will arrive in plenty of time for the ceremony—with Catherine's help, we will be clean and well dressed." He snuggled against her hair. "Don't worry about a thing—everything will work out." He rearranged bodies bringing Sara even closer and managed to wrap an arm tightly around her back so he could cup her breast in his palm, possessively and protectively.

Sara's eyes closed; peaceful and satisfied with her life, comfortable with Catherine's natural gift with organizing—and shopping.

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews and comments! And another chapter soon--Catherine shopping with 3 little girls!_


	8. Chapter 8

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 8**

~~Plans were made, times were written down, and everyone was fed and dressed before Sara left for her day of seminars and meetings. The award ceremony would be late afternoon followed by a dinner in a very ritzy hotel; taking no chances, Sara was taking another shirt, but as she explained to Catherine, "Scientists don't think about dressing up—half of the group wore their lab coats yesterday!"

There was a little commotion as three girls wanted to hold Catherine's hands as they started their day, but Catherine solved that by having Bizzy and Annie walk ahead of her, promising a turn for everyone. They rode the Metro with their father and brothers, who changed lines for their museum trip. Grissom left the train holding up three fingers as a reminder of the time to meet at the apartment.

Bizzy said, "He'll be late, Aunt Catherine! He always is without Mom."

"Well," Catherine smiled, "We will be ready before they arrive and leave them behind if they aren't fast." The girls smiled—this would be a great day, they thought.

From the Metro station, Catherine and the girls were almost at the front door of one of the most beautiful department stores in the world. Even Catherine was awed by the exquisite display of fashion and no limit to high-end merchandise. Everything seemed to sparkle with gold, silver, and bright white. Mannequins seemed to dance in the air wearing the bright colors of summer, and the three girls stared in awe as they walked deeper into the store.

"Okay, girls, we need a plan or we will never get out of here!" They had walked to the center of the shopping floor and gazed upward at the beautiful domed ceiling, the cascading lights and decorated displays.

"Let's buy something for Mom first," Bizzy said. The girls were holding hands and made a tight little spiral around Catherine.

Catherine smiled, thinking—the Grissom children were thoughtful. "What would your mom like? Any ideas?"

"Panties," Annie said. "She likes colored panties."

Catherine nearly choked. "She does?"

Bizzy giggled. "She does like nice ones—with lace."

"So does Daddy!" Ava spoke up with her high child's voice. "I think we should buy three different colors!"

Catherine bit her lip to suppress her laugh, nodding her head to agree.

"One time Mom found her panties on the bookcase and said it was Dad who put them there," Bizzy giggled as she whispered.

"Yeah, and he's always patting her bottom!" Ava's voice rang clearly in the high open space and several shoppers turned to look at the four. "And one time her purple ones were in the dryer and Dad said he thought they were lost—like Mom would lose her underwear! Who loses their panties?" Her giggles turned to snorts and chortles as her sisters joined her laughter about this parent story.

Catherine managed to hide her own amusement at this new knowledge of Sara and Gil Grissom; some things were no longer a mystery. Quickly, Catherine pointed upward. "Let's go to—what's the French word? And see if we can find your mom just the right color—three colors!"

All three girls said "Lingerie!" at the same time.

With assistance of two lovely salesladies, the three sisters chose three different colors and fashions—"_de femme culottes_"—one in blue, one in dark red, and one in lavender. Each one was wrapped in trademark paper with the care of a valuable gift. From lingerie, they were directed to an upper floor where they found row after row of little feminine dresses, finely sewn with delicate details and enough accessories to last a lifetime.

The wonder and awe on the faces of Bizzy, Annie, and Ava was enough for Catherine to pull a card from her bag, place it in the hand of a young saleslady, and in English and French the two women came to understand what was desired.

"A dress for each—whatever they want," Catherine explained. She pointed to her own feet. "And shoes, too."

"But what will you get, Aunt Catherine? You have to buy something for you!" Bizzy said as she realized what Catherine was doing.

"We'll find something for me after we've dressed you!" Catherine playfully kissed the child's forehead. "Now, let's get busy—we have so much to see!"

The saleslady called for assistance and dresses appeared—frilly sundresses, ruffled skirts, simple prints, and bright patterns, bows and lace—dozens of dresses were held in front of each girl as she looked in a mirror. Bizzy found it easy to select one dress—a simple white fabric sprinkled with small gray dots with red trim around the neckline. When she turned in front of the mirrors, everyone agreed she had chosen well.

For Ava and Annie, it was much more difficult and they selected four dresses of very differing styles to try. At first, they wanted to dress alike, or at least in similar styles, but could not agree on a dress. What had taken Bizzy fifteen minutes took over an hour for the twins to do. Catherine knew there was discussion behind the dressing room door, but she and Bizzy waited patiently as the girls performed a private fashion show. Finally, Annie chose a mauve and violet sun dress with a flowery bow on its shoulder and a diagonal band from neck to hemline.

Ava deliberated between a similar dress in pink and a white one, finally selecting the white with embroidered cutouts and tiny silver leaves scattered around the skirt. Catherine and the salesgirls agreed they had made perfect choices and while the girls tried on the dresses one more time, shoes were sent for, with Catherine's suggestions for sandals in a certain brand name. In minutes, a selection of shoes arrived, again, Ava and Annie took much longer choosing shoes.

By the time clothes were changed again, the store employees suggested lunch while they wrapped purchases, and the group rode the escalator to another floor where they decided to eat small portions of foods served on large white spoons. All four laughed and giggled throughout the meal and, as if Catherine did not love them enough, she loved them even more as she listened and watched these daughters of her friends, heard their jokes and secrets, and learned about their lives. Before returning for their dresses, they visited the boy's floor and, with Catherine's suggestions, selected a blue shirt for Will and a pale green one for Eli.

After much discussion, they decided a special food treat would be a perfect gift for their dad and found unique and very French, almond cookies in the pastry display.

"We need a big box," Annie suggested. "Dad likes to share with us." Catherine purchased a very large box of assorted cookies as three pairs of blue eyes danced with delight.

With shirts, cookies, and their mother's gifts in bags, they returned to the floor to collect the new dresses and shoes. After Catherine gathered their packages, all wrapped in beautiful paper and placed in store bags, she turned to find Annie and Bizzy circling a four-sided mirror.

"Are you ready?" She asked. "Where's Ava?"

The two girls stopped, looked at each other and then turned to look behind them. They gave nearly identical shrugs.

"She was right here," Bizzy said.

Annie called, "Ava, where are you?" But there was no answer. Both girls twirled several times before stopping in front of Catherine.

Catherine said, "Bizzy, check the dressing rooms, please."

The saleslady had turned to another customer but turned back to Catherine, saying something in French. Catherine fought a rising panic—Ava had to be near; it had only been a few minutes since she had turned away from the girls.

"She's not there," Bizzy said as she returned from the dressing rooms.

"_Qu'est-ce que vous cherchez_?" (What are you looking for?) Asked the sales clerk as she turned from Catherine to Bizzy. "_Qu'est-ce que vous avez_?" (What is wrong?)

Bizzy had seen Catherine's face and recognized fear, uncertainty, or panic. "My sister—ma soeur—missing…"

Immediately, the young woman hit several keys on her computer. "_M'appelle_?" (Name?)

Understanding her question, Bizzy answered, "Ava. Ava Grissom." Bizzy pointed to Annie. "_Jumelle—soeurs_." (Twins—sisters.)

The lady struggled for the right words in English. "Stay, no go, stay." She motioned with her hands for them to stay. Catherine had almost stopped breathing as she had taken Annie's hand.

"It's okay, Aunt Catherine," Bizzy said. "Ava is always wandering away—she hasn't gone very far."

A thousand thoughts crowded Catherine's mind; yet only one made it to completion—she had lost one of Sara's children. A bag dropped from her hand; Bizzy folded a hand around hers.

"Its okay, it's okay—she's okay," whispered Bizzy.

Catherine watched as a change occurred on the shopping floor as women came from behind service counters, left customers and display racks. Suddenly she realized for the first time that employees were dressed in similar smocks. Several men appeared as everyone slowly moved toward the center of the building. Very quietly, she heard Ava's name being called; nothing was shouted or frenzied but a very organized search had begun.

A sigh came from Annie. She said, "Mom is really going to be upset with her this time."

"No, no, she won't," Catherine said. "We just want her with us."

A sudden activity to their left caught Catherine's attention. A woman's hand waved and two men rushed to the area. Another woman walked toward Catherine; she was smiling.

"She is found!"

Ava insisted she was never lost—just looking around, she said. "I didn't mean to go so far, Aunt Catherine." Her blue eyes were wide with trusting innocent intention.

Catherine smiled and hugged her another time. Her own experience with Lindsay made her recognize a certain blameless guilt in Ava's words. This was a child's view of the world where nothing bad happened and leaving the eyesight of an adult was safe and harmless. But the incident had thrown a shadow on their day so Catherine made a fast decision.

"Girls, we need jewelry." Their hands were full, but jewelry did not take up much space. She turned to a store employee; several had remained near them after Ava had been arrived. "Jewelry?" Catherine fingered her necklace before pointing to the girls.

"Oui, Madam." One of the men reached for several bags. "Fine or—not so fine?" His English was heavily accented but understandable. "Let me help you."

Catherine flashed a smile. "Not so fine will work, I think."

The young man became their personal shopping guide, probably security, Catherine thought, as he asked questions about their visit, how they came to be in Paris, what sights they had seen, repeating several French words for Bizzy. When they arrived in the jewelry department, he remained with them and discretely followed behind as Catherine pointed to dainty necklaces, chains, charms, and ribbons. When it became obvious that selecting one was almost overwhelming even to Bizzy, Catherine chose one for each.

"My gift," she said as she placed a gold chain with a tiny heart around Bizzy's neck. For Ava and Annie, she selected similar hearts hanging on narrow black ribbons. Immediately these were exactly what they wanted.

As they collected their additional packages, their shopping-security guide suggested a taxi instead of the Metro train. "Much easier with all your—things," he said.

_A/N: Enjoy! Reviews appreciated! Another chapter soon!_


	9. Chapter 9

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 9**

The girls were right. Grissom, Eli and Will raced into the apartment later than late, pulling sweaty shirts over their heads as their sisters' unwrapped new shirts. Catherine was on the phone with Sara telling her they were minutes away from leaving.

"They just walked in! We'll be there as soon as they get dressed!"

Before Grissom could change his clothes, he had to admire his three daughters who had been transformed from jeans and sneaker wearing tourists to beautiful young girls in their newest dresses. Catherine watched as a very gentle Gil Grissom admired every detail of each dress and listened intently to the retelling of their day. When Bizzy and Annie told of Ava's disappearance, Grissom's expression changed little except for a raised eyebrow and quick glance at Catherine.

She took the opportunity to break in saying, "Let's tell that later and let your dad get dressed—we are already late, late, late!"

And in two taxis, with Ava sitting beside her father, Bizzy beside her, and Eli in the front seat, he heard the story of their 'adventure' in the department store.

"I wasn't getting lost, Daddy. I just looked in mirrors! When this lady asked if my name was Ava, I said yes." The child easily smiled. "She said my name kind of funny and she said my aunt was looking for me." Her eyes got wider and she turned her hands palms up. "I really wasn't lost—the others just freaked out on me."

Her sister's eyes rolled upward. Eli looked over his shoulder with an expression of knowing what was coming.

Grissom took Ava's hands in his own. "Ava, you scared Aunt Catherine. We've had this talk before—you know it can be dangerous when you walk away from us. We don't know where you are. You were not lost, but you could have gotten hurt or a stranger could have taken you."

Ava sighed—an exaggerated sound; her sister and brother kept quiet, caught each other's eye and quickly looked out the window.

"Ava, this is serious. Tonight, you will move your things into the room with your brothers and sleep on the bottom bed. Bizzy can move in with your sister and Aunt Catherine if she wants to. No crying or complaining. Then, you will not get to do something—I'm not sure what it will be—as your punishment. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"And I want you to apologize to Catherine. She was very worried about you." He looked at Eli and Bizzy. "You two—this is not to be mentioned to your mother. This is a big event for her today and I don't want her distracted by this. I'll tell her later. All of you look very nice—better than nice, beautiful and handsome."

Bizzy grinned. Eli sat up a little taller. Ava pushed a hand under and around her dad's elbow, and, unconsciously, he patted her hand.

They did arrive on time; the two taxis pulling to the elaborate portico of the hotel hosting the award ceremony and uniformed doormen opened car doors, extending a hand to Bizzy in the first taxi and Catherine in the second one. The hall was full, crowds milling around—mostly adults, parents and spouses, and an older child here and there. The arrival of five children was enough to cause heads to turn and within a few minutes, Sara was there, hugging and admiring her kids. Each one had to say something—Eli and Will talked about the museum and how they rushed because Dad took the wrong train, Bizzy's dress was the finest one she had ever worn, Ava showed off her new necklace and Annie her shoes. The girls performed a graceful turn to show off their dresses. In a glance at Catherine, Sara's eyes showed more than appreciation for what Catherine had been done with the appearance of her children.

Eventually, the ceremony got started, and several speakers spoke and spoke. Will squirmed his way onto his dad's lap. Annie leaned a sleepy head against Catherine and Catherine wrapped an arm around her. Finally, a man dressed in a stiff white lab coat came to the lectern and announced the presentation of the Madam Curie Award; the children were instantly alert. However, the bearded man went on about the history of the award, other recipients of past years and mentioned their research, and finally, came to the reason for the ceremony. He went to great lengths to elucidate the work done by a small group of researchers on retinoblastoma and the sudden leap in treatment of this malignant tumor of the eye based on their research. The Grissom children thought all this talk went on for hours when it actually lasted less than an hour before their mother was on the stage, smiling with six or seven others.

The formal setting belied the casualness of the ceremony as everyone knew everyone else, if not by sight by name, and the scientists had heard research presentations for two days. So when the first name was called, alphabetically, and the researcher stepped forward to receive a three-inch medallion attached to a tri-colored ribbon, everyone applauded. Her husband walked to the podium from his chair and also presented a colorful bouquet of flowers to his wife. Grissom's children immediately turned heads in his direction—he had no flowers; Eli slapped a hand to his forehead at this oversight.

Three men were next and, while there were no flowers for them, they received applause and several cheers from around the room. When Sara's name was called and she stepped to the front, Eli stood, motioned for his brother and sisters to stand, and clapped his hands; the other four followed his actions. As the man placed the medallion around her neck, Will placed two fingers between his lips and whistled. When the whistle was heard, the audience exploded with applause and laughter. Sara smiled a quirky grin, waved at her kids, who returned her wave, and retreated. The last two researchers, one another woman who received flowers from a grown daughter, were given their medals and the group was officially photographed before the ceremony ended. Numerous attendees lined up to congratulate the group, milling around talking about research and delaying the time for dinner.

Finally, the research group, their guests, and families, a much smaller group than in the hall, were shown into a private room for dinner where tables were set with expensive china, crystal glasses, and four forks at each plate. During a lull in the midst of much talking, introductions of families and friends, and food being brought to the table, Will, the youngest person in the room, announced, very loudly and clearly:

"Mom, Ava got lost today!"

Bizzy and Eli looked at their father who looked at Sara whose eyes went from Will to Ava, who was suddenly busy with her food, to Grissom. In the earlier excitement of arriving, Grissom had forgotten to say anything to Will or Annie who had been in the taxi with Catherine.

A few seconds passed before anyone said a word, then three people talked at once.

"I wasn't really lost, Mom."

"I wanted to tell you later."

"Everything worked out fine."

Sara looked at her daughter. She said, "Ava, what will we do about you?"

"I wasn't really lost." Ava kept her eyes down, but hearing her dad clear this throat, she looked up. "I'm sorry—I'm sorry, Aunt Catherine, for making you think I was lost." She fidgeted in her chair. "And Dad said I had to sleep with Eli and Will—I couldn't sleep with Annie and Aunt Catherine." Her mouth started to form a pout, but her father cleared his throat again. "We got you a present!" She beamed at her mother with her news.

Catherine lifted her glass to her mouth, hiding a smile.

Sara shook her head, indicating the quick change in subject would not work. Sara said, "You will have time to think about walking away from us." She looked at Grissom and some signal passed between them. She changed the subject to plans for the next day—a train ride to a palace—Versailles, and on everyone's list was a bike ride.

It was after eight o'clock when they left the hotel, passed up the line of taxis at the curb and headed to the river. They walked for simple pleasure, gazing into jewelers' windows waiting for customers, past fancy shops getting ready to close, and restaurants with the scent of rich French food drifting through the air. Walking without hurry they were constantly changing places but one of the adult's kept one hand on Ava and another's hand on Annie. These two would not disappear tonight as they walked along the river with Notre Dame spotlighted behind them. The adults leaned on the parapet of the oldest bridge in Paris, the Pont Neuf, and held the youngest ones so they could see the river and passing boats.

Grissom asked Bizzy for an interesting detail about the bridge. She stood on tip toes; her hands splayed on the low wall and said, "The name means 'New Bridge' but now it's the oldest bridge. It was the first paved bridge and it was built without houses on it." She looked puzzled for a moment before saying "How do you built a bridge that is not paved?" She pointed to a man on a horse statue. "That's King Henry."

"Tell us something else, Eli," Grissom said. He grinned knowing what the boy would say after spending most of the day learning about knights.

Eli pointed away from the bridge. "The last Grand Master of the Knights Templar was burned at the stake near here in 1314!"

The girls made faces but replied with expressions of interest to Eli's ghastly fact. Catherine and Sara laughed as he continued with a few other details of knights and armor learned only by young boys with a fascination of crusades and kings, treasure and tales of mystery.

_A/N: Thanks for reading, a few more days in Paris for this group! Enjoy! And a little bit of sweet smut in the next chapter--can't let those new ones disappear without a mention! Reviews?!_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Long chapter today! Enjoy!_

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 10**

Sara blushed when she opened the three neatly wrapped packages and Grissom opened his box of cookies, quickly passing them around as distraction. When Sara started to say something, Catherine waved a hand. "No need, Sara. What I've learned explains a lot!" She whispered, "I figured out long ago you two had a few secrets—I learned one of them today!"

The new dresses were carefully hung on padded hangers. "I wish I could wear my dress tomorrow," Annie sighed as her fingers curled around the fabric.

She was the only child still awake. Sara knew punishment of her sister caused more distress in Annie than it did for Ava and her restlessness was the result of missing her sister.

"Maybe we should go to dinner tomorrow night when we return—or go eat crepes or dessert in a nice restaurant. That way you could wear your dress." Sara said as she tucked the child into her bed.

"I miss Ava," the child sadly said as she looked at the bed where her sister had been sleeping, replaced now by her older sister.

"Annie, we are not punishing you, you know that. Ava has to learn not to wander away from us."

"I know." Her blue eyes blinked away tears. "She really doesn't mean to—she just does things without thinking."

Sara kissed her daughter, tucking the covers around her. Before having these two, she would have been skeptical of stories of an invisible bond between twins, but no longer. Annie lived with the consciousness of both girls, especially when it came to awareness of guilt.

"I love you, Annie." Sara comment brought a smile to her daughter's face. "Can you sleep?" The child nodded and curled into her pillow. Sara sat by her side for long minutes torn between rare thoughts of having her children so close together yet knowing if she had not done so, she would have not have had all of them. When Annie's eyes closed and her breathing became the soft, regular breaths of sleep, Sara kissed her again before leaving the bedroom.

Grissom's feet were supported on a foot stool in front of his chair; Catherine was stretched across the sofa and made an effort to move when Sara appeared. Grissom crooked a finger for her to join him in the chair.

"Stay there, Catherine. Your day has been much more dramatic than ours." Sara said as she picked up the wine bottle and topped glasses already in hands. She wedged into Grissom's chair, saying, "I do not know what else to do about Ava—she doesn't think. We take away privileges, we punish her…" Sara pointed to the other bedroom. "All that does is complicate life for Annie!" She swallowed wine and lay her head against Grissom's shoulder who turned to kiss her.

"Suggestions?" Grissom asked.

"No," Catherine chuckled. "I'm so happy Lindsay is an adult! She severely tested my parenting abilities—but, look at her now. She turned out fine. Ava will be the same—all of them will. They are good, sweet children." She took a sip of wine. "Actually, I think there's a strong genetic connection here." She leaned back against the sofa and laughed. "It does seem I remember a certain person in this room who would wander off—just leave us stranded, marooned—as he chased some…" Her laughed turned to giggles; her hand went to her mouth as she laughed.

Sara's laughter joined Catherine's. "I had forgotten! Now, I know where her wandering 'gene' comes from."

Grissom did not smile but snorted and huffed a few times. "Have no idea what either of you find so funny!"

~~Once bedroom doors closed, showers were taken in tiny bathrooms barely large enough for one, but shared by two who craved the other's touch. Desire was easily aroused with just a look and a small folded piece of cloth that brought quiet giggles to both.

"I did not want to hear how my underwear became a topic of their conversation!"

Grissom chuckled, "I think we have not been discrete enough, dear."

Grissom told her about his day, a version made entertaining for her amusement, and correctly told as truthful for most of it. He was halfway through the narrative when she stepped from the bathroom wearing nothing but a short tank top and the new red panties.

"Oh, God, did Catherine really buy those?"

"Your daughters picked them out, as I understand the story." She turned her back to him. "Do you think the size is right?"

As she turned, she crossed her ankles, one hand rested on her waist, and she grinned.

"Come here," he whispered and closed his eyes, a smile played across his lips. Sara's mouth came down on his smile; they greeted each other with a soft, tender kiss. When Grissom thought the kiss was ending, her mouth lingered, began to play, tease, and tempt him with her lips, tongue, and teeth. He opened his eyes to two warm brown ones looking into his.

Sara smiled and kissed him again, seizing his lips with greed, setting fire to his blood and in slow, patient play she gave herself to him. She stroked his hair, ran her palm down his chest. He reached for her, framed her head with tender hands, her hair, her neck, her long slim body with hips that fit snuggly against his, drawn into their own world by warmth and fragrance. He caressed her, let himself be drawn to her as he responded to her body, felt its desire and love.

Quietly, they turned their bed into a breathing center of the night. Grissom bent over Sara's face and kissed her, absorbed in awakening desires, as the night cooled and outside light played across the bed. As his hand slipped beneath silky fabric and cupped the smooth swell of her butt, he separated her legs with a gently nudge of his knee. After so long together, neither thought about the natural reactions of one body to the other, but as he entered her, he heard a delicate, velvety gasp against his ear.

Entangled and contented, they lay awake much longer than usual. Grissom had brought a bottle of water from the kitchen which they shared as they talked. The night lights reflected inside the bedroom and caused Sara's skin to glow. As they talked of mundane things, how much food was in the refrigerator, what to take for a day trip to Versailles, his hands could not remain away from her body.

His index finger found the small indention of her navel, and even as she talked, he circled it, lightly drawing some mysterious diagram on her belly. In the middle of making a list, in mid-sentence, he rolled and kissed her belly. When she giggled, he did not stop, but continuing placing lips against her skin, moving his hand between her legs. His thumb stroked her cleft finding warmth and dampness. He felt her stomach move against his lips and her hand moved into his hair.

He lifted his head and saw that Sara had closed her eyes, her lovely long neck stretched back against her pillow. His hand remained where it was but he moved to her neck and placed a kiss in the sweet hollow of her throat. His fingers moved again as his body responded to this warm welcoming center of desire.

"Will I ever get enough of you?" He whispered against her ear. He felt her smile against his cheek as she rolled to him. He had no need for an answer as she opened to him.

~~Bizzy passed a guidebook to her brother. "Versailles—pronounce it 'vehr-sigh' like the French do," pointing to what she was reading. "The powerful court of Louis XIV set the standard of culture for all of Europe and Versailles was the cultural heartbeat of Europe." She turned several pages. "We can go inside the palace then we will ride bikes all over the gardens."

Will had intently studied the small pictures on the pages, and just as seriously asked, "Do we get to see where their heads were chopped off?"

Exasperated with his lack of interest in anything other than bloodletting, Bizzy closed the book. "They were not guillotined at Versailles, Will. The kings lived there—I think that's why they got…" she ran a finger across her neck. "The regular people had no food and the king and queen were eating cake."

Catherine elbowed Sara. "Looks like you have a little anti-monarchy lesson being taught." They were traveling by train sitting across from the two children. Grissom and Annie sat in front of them; Ava and Eli were across the aisle. Several child-size backpacks were at their feet.

"Mom, do I have to go inside the palace?" Will asked.

"Yes. Short tour, just a few rooms. Then we will ride bikes."

"And eat our picnic?" Annie asked, twisting around in her seat.

"See the palace, ride bikes, eat our lunch—that's the plan."

They were among the first in line and, since it was prior to prime tourist season, the courtyard was not nearly as crowded as it would be in a few weeks. The "short" tour ended up a very long walk through twenty rooms of history interesting to four children for the first ten minutes. The organ music in the chapel perked up ears for a few minutes but even Bizzy was ready to move on. The individual audio headphones provided more entertainment than the painted rooms—Catherine kept Will's hand in hers, Grissom held Ava's hand, and Sara kept one hand on Annie. In this one-way tour, getting lost was not an option.

Once Bizzy and Eli noticed the paintings of gods and goddesses on ceilings and walls, they created a game of "guess the god" and realized at some point the rooms were named for Greek gods—Mars, Mercury, Apollo, even Diana—which caused a moment of intense giggles from the two.

However, when they walked into the Hall of Mirrors, everyone stared at this astonishing room in silent awe. The long hall with its seventeen arched mirrors, matched by windows providing a breathtaking view of the gardens, was unlike anything they had imagined. Gold covered everything not glass—Eli quickly counted twenty four gold and crystal candelabras. The adults slowly walked its length while the kids laughed, danced, and played with their reflections just as guests had done for three hundred years.

The mirrored hall and its windows served to remind five children of outside activities and the rest of the tour passed in a whirlwind of canopied beds and paintings of kings, queens, an emperor, and cupids covering walls. Once outside, they stopped at the stone railing and did complete turns to see the palace, the fountains, trees, ponds, and flowers. Will was the first to see the frogs and lizards that surrounded the round fountain and, from the guidebook, Bizzy read the story of Apollo and Diana and Zeus.

"This is the Latona fountain," Eli announced, reading over her shoulder. "The bike rental is there—at Apollo's fountain." The three adults were walking to slow for excited kids. "Can we go ahead, Dad? We'll wait beside the fountain."

Grissom nodded, "Beside the fountain, on the path so we can see you."

The children remained on the walkway running around the pool with its elaborate chariot yet had been able to pick out which bicycle each wanted to ride from the racks behind the rental house by the time the adults arrived. Before renting the bikes, Grissom pulled Ava aside, bent to her level and said:

"Remember our talk about your punishment for leaving Aunt Catherine?" He reminded her. "Today, you will not get your own bike—you will ride behind me in a child's seat."

Tears sprang into her eyes. "Daddy, I'm a big girl—those are for babies." Tears spilled and ran down her cheeks.

"Annie, what did I say yesterday? No crying—this is your punishment—don't ask to ride one of the others; you ride with me." He took his thumb and wiped her face. "Do you understand?"

She nodded and sniffed. Grissom pulled out his handkerchief and wiped her face. His hand went around her shoulders. "You'll have fun; it won't be so bad to ride behind me, will it?"

Ava shook her head, but clung to his hand. "Daddy, am I a bad girl?"

"No, sweetheart, you are a good girl," he chuckled. "Sometimes you are too much like me, and I don't want you to be hurt."

Her blue eyes blinked rapidly. "Daddy, were you hurt?"

"Sometimes—when I did things my mom didn't want me to do."

Finally, bikes were rented, the right size, the right color; Catherine swore it had been twenty years since she had ridden a bike. Grissom offered to rent a golf cart instead, but eventually, everyone was on a bike. Ava made no complaints, even bragged that she was the one who got to ride with her dad, as they pedaled along the paths and walkways of the lavish gardens and through groves, around fountains and statues.

After the extravagant and unrestrained opulence of the palace, the _Le Hameau_, the Hamlet, of Marie-Antoinette looked like doll houses. The bikes were parked and the kids ran from house to house, imagining themselves as child kings and queens. Along the edge of the path near the 'Temple of Love', they found a shady place for a picnic and pulled out the breads, cheeses, fruits and drinks they had stuffed into backpacks.

The kids ate, giggled, ran around the marble columns and the statue of Cupid, returned to their picnic and their parents before doing it all again.

Catherine stretched out and propped on her elbows. "I never thought five kids would be easier than one—but they entertain each other—most of the time." She rolled to one side. "My butt is going to be sore tomorrow." She massaged her backside.

Grissom chuckled, "Your butt is in fine shape, Catherine." He dodged Sara's elbow as they laughed. "Her butt has always looked good!"

Catherine rolled to her belly. "I am pretty sure I've never had blisters on it!"

After returning the bicycles, Grissom insisted they needed to paddle around on the Grand Canal, and as eight people really needed two boats, he rented three and proudly presented paddles to Catherine and Sara. Catherine passed her paddle to Eli.

"I'm with you, handsome! You can paddle!" She said as Grissom asked who wanted to ride in his boat. For the next hour, they paddled and splashed water and swapped places, while Eli rowed one boat and the other kids learned how to maneuver and paddle.

Late in the day, eight exhausted travelers settled into seats for the return trip to Paris. Two little girls were asleep before the train had traveled a mile.

_A/N: A few more adventures before this one ends! Thanks for reading!!_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Thanks so much for reading--probably a total of 15 chapters for this one! Enjoy!_

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 11**

Annie remembered her mother's suggestion and had recruited her sisters—wearing their new dresses to dinner. Their brothers balked—Will most severely and very vocally did not want to go. Eli liked the idea because he secretly enjoyed the attention of Aunt Catherine who talked to him in a special way that made him feel grown up. However, when Will was unwilling to do something, which was rare, the entire family became involved in changing his mind, or changed theirs. No amount of persuasion by his sisters worked, not promises of extra food or bribes of promises to be fulfilled at a later date, and soon their debate brought a parent to the bedroom door.

"What's going on?" Grissom asked from the doorway. Of his five children, he noticed, three had flamed kissed cheeks and the sparkling eyes of anger. The two boys sat on top bunks, swinging feet, and appearing unnaturally calm for all the hushed sounds that had been coming from the room seconds before he stepped to the door.

Bizzy, obviously the most agitated, stopped her pacing when he spoke. Annie jumped from the bed and came to her side, her hand finding his. She knew touch got his attention; he looked down into bright blue eyes and a smile.

A compromise ensued. Three dressed up young ladies along with Sara and Catherine left to find a nice restaurant and eat dessert. And they looked like princesses as they left the building. Grissom watched, realizing how fast they were growing up, and he had to clear his throat twice before he could answer Will's question.

"Are we ready?"

The two boys and their father walked back to the park where small boats could be rented, ate drippy crepes on the way that dribbled on two shirts, petted several dogs they met, ate _barbe a' papa_, a sticky spun sugar concoction on a stick, and arrived at the park even more disheveled than when they left the apartment. Grissom paid to rent three sail boats—bigger ones this time—which they poked, pushed and prodded away from the edge of the huge pool. With a little wind, their boats sailed and the shouts of laughter of others joined theirs as the sailing ships seemed to have a mind of their own.

When it seemed Will's boat would sail within his reach, and he leaned over enough to touch it with his stick, a puff of air moved the boat and Will's outstretched arm tilted his balance forward. Grissom heard Eli's shout before he heard the splash, followed quickly by another splash, and the lively noise of a dozen people shouting something in French.

Both boys were soaked. An old man in a shiny suit, laughing, speaking in French, handed Grissom a somewhat clean towel as the boys climbed out of the pool. People laughed and applauded, and Will, wanting to continue this show, performed a deep bow while standing on the wide lip of the pool. His waves had caused a mini-tsunami for the pool and someone shouted, in English, that his boat was now resting on the opposite side of the pool.

~~Catherine chose the restaurant, an elegant looking, small place with desserts displayed in a window case, and fewer than a dozen tables outside. Bizzy, whose French improved daily, was able to ask for the dessert menu and the solemn waiter actually smiled as she explained descriptions to her sisters.

Catherine watched as the formally dressed waiter persona softened when Bizzy looked up from her menu and asked, "_Qu'es-ce que vous nous recommandez_?" (What would you recommend?)

With her question, the waiter became a showman, a gracious ringmaster for the girls, who sought subtle approval from the two women with a slight lift of his eyebrow. Disappearing for a few minutes, he returned with a tray of desserts, placing it on their table and proceeded to provide detail descriptions—mostly in French—of each. He bowed and spoke a few words in English, took unhurried time as each child repeated the names of each dessert. When his words failed to explain or confused the others, Bizzy interpreted.

Caramelized crème brulee was an easy one as was the Napoleon—described as a thousand sheets of layered crispy pastry and butter cream filling. The cherries were obvious in the Clafoutis aux Cerisis but as they attempted to pronounce its name, everyone decided this was one to order. The waiter pointed to small pastries covered with chocolate—Profiteroles au Chocolat—and, in English, said "Very good!" and as several heads nodded, he added "la crème?" and received additional nods. It was difficult to decide between Concorde Meringue, stacks of chocolate meringues and chocolate mousse, and the Tarte aux Fraises, a strawberry tart, so Catherine said,

"Bring both! And wine—vin, deux," she pointed to Sara and herself.

For the girls, he asked for beverage requests, and Bizzy quickly responded with _"eau—petillante pas de glace."_ (water—sparkling with no ice)

"She's fast," Catherine whispered.

Sara smiled, "Too fast."

The most expensive eatery in Paris could not have provided better service nor made young girls happier. The girls behavior and manners were impeccable; one hand remained in the lap while they ate, sharing small bites of each dessert, and "merci" or "merci beaucoup" as a response for the arrival of the desserts and the refilled water glasses. They talked of girl things, of dresses and style, of things French and American, delaying as long as possible the decision to leave the table.

Sara glowed as any mother should when daughters are beautiful and well behaved. Catherine was amazed, again, by the three children as she watched and listened to them. She had heard concerns of both parents for years, but on this trip, spending twenty-four hours a day with them, she saw well adjusted, pleasant and kind individuals who genuinely cared for others.

Leisurely walking the streets where it seemed most of Paris was enjoying the early night, the girls danced and laughed just ahead of Sara and Catherine. The girls could not resist their reflections in store windows as they turned and twirled and checked their images, giving approval to each other and displaying self-satisfaction to their own appearance.

"What will you do for high school? Middle school?" Catherine asked without specifically naming Bizzy.

"It's a dilemma for us—as parents. She has been happy in the local school and the school has really worked with her." Sara said making a somewhat bleak sigh. "I don't want her to be a freak."

Catherine coughed and laughed. "She's no freak! She's a lovely girl—brighter than most—and very good at hiding it!"

Sara smiled, "How many kids do you know who've read the encyclopedia, Britannica at that, in first grade? How many kids her age can open up a calculus book and work through it in a few weeks?" Her voice softened. "It scares me to think about her future."

Catherine placed a gentle hand on Sara's back. "Oh, Sara, lighten up. She's going to be fine! She has you and Gil for parents; her brothers and sisters keep her grounded in what is fun. She's a genius—so let her be one, fill her brain with all those intelligent things—but she's a kid, too."

"You have always been able to live in the present, Catherine." Sara chuckled. "Actually, I admire that."

By the time they reached the apartment building, they were the only ones on the street. Lights from windows cast shadows onto the sidewalk and the girls hopped from one bright square to another, singing an old French nursery rhyme.

"Looks like the guys are back," Sara said as she looked up at lighted windows.

The girls wanted to ride the slow, clanging elevator, barely large enough for the three, but by crowding together, all five rode slowly to the top floor. The door of the apartment was unlocked, every light was turned on, but it was abnormally quiet as Catherine pushed open the door.

"Where are they?" Bizzy asked as they entered the silent space; no visible evidence of anyone.

They were all quiet, puzzled by the silence. Ava's prompt need for the bathroom solved part of the puzzle.

"There's wet clothes in here—wet everything!" She shouted, bringing everyone to the door where two piles of wet clothing along with wet shoes made one big, growing puddle.

Sara and Catherine looked at each other; Sara turned, heading to her bedroom where she stopped once she opened the door. The others crowded behind her. On the bed, three bodies were curled together; Grissom in the middle with a book over his chest, eyeglasses perched on his nose, eyes closed, Eli was asleep on one side of him, Will on the other. All three were lightly snoring.

One of the girls giggled and Catherine pulled them back from the door. Sara removed the book and the glasses, covered all three with a blanket, picked up Grissom's damp clothes, and closed the door. By the time she returned to the kitchen, Catherine had poured juice for everyone and they were giggling about finding the wet clothes.

"They sailed boats and fell in—I am so happy not to have been there!" Bizzy giggled. "Embarrassing—no one falls in the pond!" Her sisters agreed.

Sara gathered the boys' wet pants and shirts, socks and underwear and put them in the dryer. "Thank goodness for the washer and dryer—it would have taken foot lockers to bring enough clothes." She laughed as she tried to determine what sticky stuff was on the front of Grissom's shirt.

Bizzy brought the wet shoes to the sink. "Dad didn't fall in, did he?"

Catherine and Sara laughed at her question. "I don't think so—his shoes are dry, but he got something sticky all over his shirt." She held the shirt in front of her and sniffed.

Just before she put her tongue out to taste, Annie and Catherine shouted "Don't!" which led to a round of more laughter before bedtime routines started.

Eventually, Sara gathered her pajamas and moved in with Ava for the night as no one on her bed had moved since they arrived. As she changed, Ava ran into bedroom where Catherine, Annie, and Bizzy were, delightfully shouting to her sisters, "Mom is wearing her new blue panties tonight!"

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the reviews! Some we missed due to a clich in notices, but we do sincerely appreciate all your encouragement, finding humor as we do, and your comments!_


	12. Chapter 12

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 12**

Grissom woke in a confused state; the tickle against his chin did not have its normal feel and his feet did not find the usual warm toes and ankles. He opened his eyes to find a dark curly head belonging to Eli and wedged against his back was another head of hair belonging to Will. He grunted as he moved but got no response from either child; even as he pushed up and crawled over the two sleeping boys, neither came awake. Instead, as if they had been bound by his presence, both stretched and spread out to fill the space he had just vacated.

The apartment was quiet and dark as he walked around—he saw folded clothes and shoes drying by the sink so everyone had returned. He quietly opened the door of a bedroom and saw Ava and Sara sleeping in the same narrow bunk bed. He grinned and almost closed the door before he realized he had no room on his bed. He sat down on the empty bottom bunk, springs squeaking as he did so. He heard covers move and knew Sara was awake.

"It's me—pushed out of my own bed," he whispered.

He heard a quiet hum sound and thought she had gone back to sleep, but, as he pushed back covers, her feet touched the floor and her arm reached for him. "Move over."

He pushed against the wall and held the covers until she crawled beside him, the bed squeaking again.

"Who fell in first?" Sara asked as she spooned against him, her back against his chest as his arm wrapped around her, settling his hand on her belly.

Grissom chuckled. "Will. Eli jumped in to save him. It was quite a show. How was dessert?"

"Wonderful." She turned her head and kissed in his direction. "This is a great trip."

"It is," he whispered just before he kissed her neck and breathed in her scent, saying "I love you."

"Love you, too." Sara snuggled into the pillow, finding his hand. "Missed you tonight."

Grissom's hand on her belly had moved underneath her pajama pants. "What's this?" He fingered the lace waistband of her panties.

Sara silently chuckled. "The blue ones—the girls were so thrilled—you should have seen them," she whispered. "Catherine was doubled over laughing."

He moved enough to start the bed squeaking. "This damn bed!" he complained.

Sara reached for his hand and brought it to her waist. "Cool down, hot stuff," she giggled and pressed her butt against his groin. "You'll have to wait for another night."

His hand moved to her breast and closed around it. "I'll never get enough of you," he said as he kissed her again before nestling his face against her hair, sighing deeply, hugging her close, and, within minutes, was asleep.

~~Point Zero and Notre-Dame Cathedral sit as the bull's eye of most Paris tourist maps, yet the Grissom group had yet to walk across the brass marker or enter the front doors of the church—waiting for the early morning date stamped on tickets they had ordered for a tour of the two hundred foot tall bell towers. Even though Bizzy, Sara, and Gil had read the true, historical story of the building, Ava and Annie wanted to talk about beautiful Esmeralda and Will wanted to act like the bell ringer, Quasimodo—impressions based on a Disney movie made before they were born. Eli went along—much more interested in later history and churches held little interest for him—but thinking the gargoyles were worthy of a climb up the tower. For Bizzy, she loved churches, she knew the saints, their symbols, and their stories; here in Paris, Saint Denis had a particular great story. It wasn't the religion that fascinated her—it was the long process of faith of the people who perpetuated religion.

Catherine was the official photographer for the trip—her camera and one belonging to Sara held hundreds of photos—and this morning she continued with her pictorial diary of Paris. Notre Dame and its plaza was a setting for a thousand photographs and she took many. Sara handed her camera to each child with instructions to take ten photographs before passing the camera to the next one.

They were among the first in line for the tower tour—nearly four hundred tightly spiraled steps to the top. Everyone was panting as they neared the top and Catherine said one word for each of the last fifty steps which caused everyone to snicker and laugh.

"You're in a church, Aunt Catherine," Eli said as he laughed at her word.

"Yes, I am, and I am too old to be doing this!" She said after stopping for a few minutes on a small landing.

Eli and Bizzy moved behind her and kept one hand on her back, promising to catch her or push her as needed, but she kept repeating the same breathless word with every step. Seconds before dropping from exhaustion, the first person stepped onto the terrace seeing the view of Paris. "Wow!" seemed to be the only word to describe what they saw.

A glorious view of Paris lay below them sparkling in the sun, looking like a tiny miniature city with ant sized cars and comma sized people twenty stories below them. Finding landmarks, seeing flying buttresses from above, and examining gargoyles—skinny and hunched or fat and chomping on grapes and chicken—made the claustrophobic climb worth every step.

Will became Quasimodo as he jumped around the balcony and mocked ringing the huge bell above his head. When the adjacent tower bell began to ring, they felt the vibration to their toes covering ears as they tried to muffle sound.

Inside the cathedral, they joined hundreds of tourists, even as the first visitors of the day, in the interior of the cross-shaped church, saw Joan of Arc in her armor, and took time to search the rose shaped window for a tiny baby Jesus at its center. As the others moved through the spacious building, Grissom slowed with Bizzy as she opened the small gate of one of the chapels for the saints. He dropped coins into the collection box and picked up two candles, handing one to her. She smiled as they placed their lighted candles in a holder.

They ambled around the outside, finding the statue of a young architect among the apostles, before crossing the street to the Memorial de la Deportation. Here, everyone became quiet as they read the inscription on the floor, "They went into the earth and they did not return." Slowly, the group walked along the hallway lined with 200,000 lighted crystals, one for each French citizen who died in Nazi concentration camps. Sara pointed above the exit to the last message given to visitors, "Forgive, but never forget."

Once outside, sunlight brought smiles and the seemingly endless energy of children and food became the destination as a previous tour guide had mentioned the excellent ice cream found at a small place near Notre Dame, and it was. The variety of selections—lemon, pear, strawberry, chocolate, three or four different vanillas—meant decisions and changing of minds before everyone got served. They sat side by side above the Seine eating ice cream before lunch in the shadow of Paris' architectural centerpiece feeling very pleased and happy with life.

They eventually moved, walking along the river with no particular destination. They crossed the river to the area of twisting streets and narrow buildings of medieval times. Grissom asked for their tour book, flipping pages until he found an address.

"There's a pub near here—we need to find it," he said as he pointed to a few old building leaning every which way. He led the way, children lined up in single file behind him. Sara glanced at Catherine who managed to hide her laugh behind a cough and her hand.

At the front of a very old building, he stopped. A sign above the door advertised the place as _La Guillotine Pub_.

Eli was practically jumping with excitement. "I read about this place! Dad, it has a real guillotine! Can we see it?" Will joined him, making a slicing motion with his hand.

Grissom opened the door to find an almost empty bar, only a few customers this early in the day, and all of them turned toward the noise at the door. A man behind the counter, obviously accustomed to tourists, motioned for them to enter.

"Bonjour!" He called.

Grissom waved and extended the same greeting. "The guillotine," he said, "may we see it?"

The man's French disappeared. "Certainly, come in—girls, too!"

They got to see the guillotine, and with the barman as their guide, they saw the iron hand cuffs on the walls, the chains on the staircase, and the barred windows. The basement room was a small, rock walled area, set up for music now, but, as the man explained, it once held prisoners waiting for the—his hand moved across his own throat. The children watched in wide-eyed amazement of his story and what they saw.

When Grissom offered to pay for the tour, the man waved a hand, "No, no, it is always a pleasure to see children interested in history!" He shook hands with each one, saying "you return one day, yes, for our music," his hand waved to the bar, "and for a beer!"

After lunch at a sidewalk café, Sara brought out the tour book again. "We have one full day left—we need to decide what we want to see!" She unfolded a city map across the table.

"The catacombs!" Eli suggested.

Bizzy spoke up, "Pere-Lachaise and Sacre-Coeur."

"Shopping!" Ava added, "I promise not to walk away—there's so much to see! I don't even have to spend money!"

Annie agreed with her sister.

Sara looked at Will who said, "I do not want to shop."

Catherine said, "We'll do the shopping—I need to buy some things and if I have good help," she looked at Ava and Annie, "I can get it done in a day."

Grissom nodded at the two boys, "Catacombs it is, and maybe a side trip to the sewers." Grins broke across his sons faces.

Bizzy was smiling. Her mother said, "That means you and me for the church and cemetery."

The rest of the afternoon, they spent in the Musee d'Orsay with its art of bright colors, sun filled scenes of flowers, fields, and cafés from Manet, Monet, Renoir, Degas, van Gogh, Cezanne, and Gauguin. They browsed the large rooms finding paintings everyone liked, a few no one enjoyed, others the boys liked or the girls found interesting, and they learned to squint eyes for some, to stand away from others, and to study some very closely for tiny details. The most interesting exhibit for all of them was—not paintings or statues—the model of Paris underneath a glass floor. They spent over an hour finding buildings and parks they had visited, including the boat pond near their apartment.

In no hurry, they found their way back, stopping for food for dinner, buying a few souvenirs from street venders as street lights came on and Parisians began to fill the night streets.

_A/N: Enjoy & review! Away for two days, back with the ending chapters in a couple of days...Reviews, always appreciated! So leave us a few words! _


	13. Chapter 13

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 13**

In the spring, twilight in Paris seemed to last forever, each day stretched a few minutes longer as trees became a little greener, more flowers bloomed, people were outside longer. It was peaceful, the air warm and seductive. After eating dinner in the apartment, everyone was restless for one more outing before bedtime, so they all left with intentions of buying crepes from the vender a few blocks away.

As they walked, Catherine listened to the children talk; Eli liked to walk beside her—she knew this and she knew she loved him just a little differently than she loved the others. He and Will were bragging about some adventure and all she had to do was smile and nod as they talked and occasionally sought her approval without adding to their conversation. She was surprised, continued to be amazed, at the relationships of this family. Sara and Gil worked very hard to make family life easy—Sara worked continually, thinking ahead, what was needed, what had to be done. Gil—Catherine almost shook her head as she tried to remember the man she had worked with for so long herding this small group of children around Paris, but he did it. And it did not take much to transpose the five curly-haired children into the team he had gathered together in Las Vegas. There were similarities, she thought. She laughed out loud as she realized he had worked parenthood backwards—he got the adults first.

By now, each child could order a crepe, in French, and pay for it, and manage to eat it from the paper plate without making much of a mess. They paired up for several blocks—Eli and Will walked with Catherine; Bizzy with her mother, and the twins with their dad. A change in conversation topics, or some thought to share would cause a change in walking partners; several times Catherine noticed a shift—the girls would be around her or their mother; by the next block, they would be walking with their father. Yet without physically touching, Sara and Grissom were connected—a decade of marriage—no, she realized, it had been longer than that and the two were still lovers. She dropped her head to smile; had to be those panties, she thought.

~~Sara took one last look in the mirror, brushing her hair back with her hand. Catherine had aged well, she thought—expensively well. Sara's hair curled naturally and showed only a few threads of white whereas Catherine's hair had remained the same soft blonde, waving around her shoulders. Tonight, Annie had said she wanted to look like Aunt Catherine. Sara knew the child could never look like Catherine—she had to many of the genes of her father for that—a mass of curly hair that would never relax into waves, a somewhat strong, stocky frame that would never lend itself to slimness, and the enigmatic smile that was repeated on two of her siblings faces. Sara sighed, hoping this wish would fade.

She entered the bedroom with a smile. Their time in Paris had passed quickly and today everyone had behaved so well, enjoyed the cathedral and the museum, and been so tired upon their return from a night walk that bedtime and bath time had been swift and easy. Tomorrow would be another beautiful day filled with new experiences and adventures. For a moment, she thought the dark room was empty, but then noticed her husband standing at the window.

He was wearing a white tee-shirt and dark sleep pants—his usual—a hand at his waist and the other rested on the top of his head. He looked much younger than his actual age; his hair was longer, curlier with length and his body was strong, perfectly straight—except for his long-ago injured knee that gave his walk a rolling saunter. Her smile broadened.

She slipped arms around his waist; he turned quickly and caught his breath. She had put on a simple white shirt and the last pair of new panties—a triangle of lavender edged in a band of lace of the same color. He held her at arms length, a smile tugging at his lips as he said, "Let me look at you." Her face was flushed from her shower, her hair damp, her eyes bright with reflected light. His grin grew. She knew what she was doing. Her shirt was not buttoned, thin fabric almost meeting in front, and stopping just below her waist. His fingers slowly moved along her arms as his eyes found the bare skin between shirt and panties. His hand left her arm and a finger traced the lace edge.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Lavender—the last pair?" He knelt for closer inspection. "Should I worry that our daughters can pick out panties for their mother that I adore?" His thumb slipped underneath the lace following the v-line from her hip downward. He leaned forward and kissed the crest of her hip bone, feeling before hearing the rippling laugh she made. His arms slipped around her, his hands moved underneath her shirt.

They both turned and found the bed. Grissom kissed her again, along her neck, to her ear, before he stopped, a smile on his lips. "I have a present for you." He got up, reached the window sill and returned with a small square box wrapped in red. He knelt before her. "For you, to remember this trip."

Sara was slowly shaking her head. "We agreed…only the kids."

"Open it." He reached to turn on the bedside lamp.

She untied the ribbon and pulled the paper away—she recognized the box as well as the embossed name. Before opening it, she said, "You shouldn't—when?"

"Eli and Will are learning to keep a secret." He nodded toward the box. "Open!"

Inside the box, lying on velvet, was a braided coil of gold with tiny charms attached along its length. "Gil, you shouldn't have." She held up the bracelet; its craftsmanship was exquisite. "It's beautiful," she whispered as tears filled her eyes.

She fingered each charm—five small golden hearts with each child's initials engraved on one side, their birth dates on the reverse. A sixth charm had the same engraved image of the larger medallion she had gotten at the awards ceremony. The clasp was a small gold bee with two tiny green-stone eyes. After she finished her inspection, Grissom watching her without saying a word, saw confusion on her face.

"You like it?" he asked nervously.

The surprise of this gift had overwhelmed her as she realized it could not have been ordered and purchased in a few days. "It's beautiful, Gil—really, I do love it. But—how, it's obvious where, but in a few days—even a place this famous—and expensive…" she tried to coherently explain her bewilderment.

He took the bracelet from her and motioned for her to hold out her arm. "You are right—I've had something like this in mind for a while—my mother had one of these. I think it's in a box somewhere. And, when we decided to come to Paris—the internet is a wonderful thing!" He closed the clasp. "And when I found the bee…" he grinned and leaned forward and kissed her.

Sara held her arm up for the light to catch and reflect as Grissom stretched out on the bed. "This is truly beautiful. And Eli and Will knew?"

"They knew I got you a bracelet in a nice store—sworn to secrecy." He chuckled. "I think they are better at secrets than the girls." As he spoke, he absentmindedly placed his hand on her leg, running his hand along her thigh. At the same time, their desires for each other stirred and thoughts turned to what his fingers were doing.

Sara's hands went around his neck, fingers moved through his hair, her eyes full of desire. She turned to him, draping one leg over his and pulling him toward her. She could feel the heat and hardness of his body as he made a pleasurable sigh. There were kisses and touches, soft moans and caresses as clothes were lost in covers. The arch of Sara's back, an uncontrollable shiver, and a quiet gasp came as Grissom joined her in a spiraling sensation of passion. Grissom collapsed, too exhausted and satiated to move as Sara wrapped legs tightly around him. Grissom caressed her face, kissed her gently, and started to move off her.

"Don't move."

_A/N: Thanks for reading, one, maybe two, more chapters--we are putting finishing touches on it now! Review? Yes, please! _


	14. Chapter 14

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 14**

Giving the command not to move wasn't exactly what occurred. Grissom shifted slightly, Sara's legs wrapped a little tighter around his. He kissed her neck, she caressed his hands and arms and shoulders. And they talked—or spoke words in some random order that seemed to be a response or a quiet declaration of something, more to hear each other's voice than to have purpose. Gradually, because neither could bare to let the other sleep when all was quiet and exhausted children were unlikely to wake, they were both surprised to find themselves warming with passion again.

He chuckled, "Is it Paris?" He asked between kisses and received in reply a pleasurable sound. He had been surprised, following so quickly, when he had felt the rising surge of heat between his legs as he hardened. They kissed, touched, they sighed and whispered as pleasure turned to ache and craving. Perhaps stamina was amplified, or the second time in one night brought unexpected pleasure, their passion shook them from head to toe within seconds.

They lay, depleted, hearts racing, breathing erratic, unable to say anything for several minutes, when Sara said, "I need another shower," causing laughter they tried to shush as she crawled from the tangled sheets and headed to the bathroom.

The bathroom was exceptionally small by American standards yet arranged to be easily used—by one person. But tonight, Sara and Grissom managed to close the shower door with both inside and do a little revolving dance so each got wet, soaped and rinsed with help from each other. Sara's fingers traveled slowly over him, lightly massaging his back, felt his breaths, and, sliding a wet hand around to his chest, placed her palm against his heart.

"I love you, Gil." Her lips kissed his damp neck just below his ear.

He turned to find two incredibly brown eyes inches from his own. He stared into her eyes, finding love that still caused him to become breathless. He kissed her, deeply passionate, holding her face between his hands, saying nothing for a time.

Turning off the spray, maneuvering the door, finding and wrapping towels around each other took another rotating dance before they were back in the bedroom.

She was the first to giggle at the sight. "Did we really do this?" Covers were on the floor, sheets were wrinkled and twisted; her panties lay near the door. She stooped for the panties, holding them up with a broad grin on her face.

~~Catherine had a small hand in each of hers after numerous promises by all three. No one would wander away or get lost or cause problems. Catherine knew Sara reluctantly watched them walk away; she also knew she needed to do this. She had managed to conceal her panic after the incident in the department and today was her self-willed act to put it in the past. The two girls beside her were oblivious to her plan as they chatted happily.

Catherine found it easy to smile with them—with the entire family. This morning she had to leave the kitchen when one of these two, Annie, she thought, had asked their father how he liked their mother's panties. Sara's face had blushed as Grissom had calmly said he liked them just fine. When Ava, with the innocence of a young child, said "Well, don't be putting them on the bookcase anymore." Sara choked on her coffee, Grissom turned red and stammered out a "no, I won't". Catherine caught the glance between husband and wife—one of those secret looks of sex—and both stifled a laugh. But instead of ending or dying quietly, the other children took a teasing aim at their parents and regardless of how Sara or Grissom tried to change the subject, they returned to their mother's underwear. Catherine could not remember when she had laughed so hard at someone's discomfiture. After a third or fourth story—one about whites turned pink traced back to one pair of panties—Grissom "ordered" everyone to eat. Silence followed for several minutes until Will giggled.

He looked at Catherine and said, "And one time Dad had Mom's panties around his ankle." The kids hooted and laughed even though they had heard this before, but Catherine laughter was near uncontrollable. After being asked twice, once by Sara, once by Grissom, if she was okay, Catherine left the table.

The two girls proved to be the perfect companions for Catherine's shopping trip. They breezed through a bookstore and found the perfect three dimensional art book. They discovered the covered markets, _marches couverts_, with shops selling perfume and chocolates and Parisian ties. Catherine, with the assistance of Ava and Annie, picked four silk ties for "guy friends".

"Are they all your boy friends?" Ava asked.

"No, not really," Catherine explained. "More like friends I play with."

They purchased chocolates for the two men the girls called Uncle Nick and Uncle Greg, but for their Uncle Jim, who had retired and live about an hour from them, they bought a plaid hat. "He plays lots of golf and Mom says he needs to shade his head," Annie told Catherine.

Catherine knew Jim Brass' reason for moving to a retirement community near the Grissom home was based on these children. He had lost his own daughter years before and had developed a close bond with this bubbling, laughing family.

When they entered a small store selling tourists trinkets, the girls insisted on buying several tiny Eiffel Towers—one for their neighbors, another for Brass, one for their room. By lunch time, they were holding several bags and still had two large department stores to explore. Mid-afternoon, they had shopped, eaten twice, and had a dozen packages or bags to haul back to the apartment, and none of the three appeared to be tired or weary from their expedition. They had jewelry and perfume for Lindsay, ties, chocolates, a small painting, two hats—deciding to buy one for their dad, the Eiffel Tower souvenirs, Paris tee shirts in several sizes, including one for each brother, and Catherine had purchased several clothing items for herself.

"Overall, a very satisfying day, girls," she said as they packed their purchases into a taxi.

~~Will was practically dancing all morning; leaving the women behind, Grissom kept a firm hand on his son as they rode the Metro to the catacombs. Eli read the tour book information—a history already known by the two boys ever since they had watched a television program months ago. The two boys were more interested in the macabre than the actual history; the World War 2 history was interesting, they agreed, and maybe they would find a few skulls with bullet holes.

Grissom listened to them talk contributing a comment now and then. His mind wandered back to the night before—early morning, actually—with Sara. After all this time, and five kids, they still made fireworks together. He was satisfied with life beyond belief, something he had never imagined as a younger man. Last night had been a cherry on a sundae.

"This is it, Dad. The entrance is across the street!" Eli said, bringing him to the present as the train slowed and Will was tugging him to the exit.

The catacombs were exactly what boys loved; dark, dimly lit with a steep, spiral staircase with a hundred steps before reaching the bottom, and then another walk through a narrow passageway before actually seeing bones. Every person in the small group stopped to gawk at the first space containing bones. Photographs could not show the enormous display of bones—all artistically arranged without benefit of wood or glue or stone. By the time they had reached a second chamber of bones the boys had found several skulls with holes which, to them, meant bullets. And the place went on and on, Grissom reminded them they were walking only a small part of these underground rooms and tunnels. Another steep staircase got them to the sunlight and smells of meat scented cooking reached their nostrils.

"Anyone hungry?" Grissom asked, knowing the answer..._Chapter 15, up soon! Enjoy!_

_A/N: One more chapter to conclude this story! **A little note**: we have another story started, but it is very difficult for 3 'working' student-authors to write from 3 locations. While we appreciate all the reviews and comments,(some of you are very loyal reviewers!!) we are losing steam here--**lots of reader numbers**, but few take the time to actually let us know anything! So here's the deal--you review and we write. You are reading for FREE and a review takes all of 10-30 seconds out of your life. _

_Writing and completing stories for fanfiction takes HOURS! We try to research before throwing some situation into these stories, which takes time. So the next story depends on Y-O-U! You review, we write._


	15. Chapter 15

**_A/N: Thank you, everyone, for letting us know you are reading our bit of fanfic! It does inspire!_**

**A Few Days in Paris Chapter 15**

Sara thought visiting a cemetery was an odd attraction for a child, but her oldest daughter had talked about Pere-Lachaise since reading a paragraph in a guide book. She had printed more information, talked about the cemetery, who was buried there, and tried to convince her brothers and sisters into adding it as a "must see" to no avail. To have her mother minus the rest of the family seemed to give her enormous pleasure—Sara suspected Bizzy would be completely happy to be an only child.

On arriving at the walled cemetery—Cimetiere du Pere LaChaise—Bizzy found a seller of maps and they began their explorations along tree-shaded serpentine paths. On a small paper, Bizzy showed her mother a list of notables with the tomb of Abelard and Heloise at the top of her list. They wandered, with purpose, among copper stained monuments, rain eroded angels, and gothic gated sepulchers seeing statuary of grieving women, memorials to martyrs and victims, brightly colored ceramic flowers and stone carved feathers, ferns, and religious symbols, and fresh flowers on a few tombs.

The beautiful carved couple of Abelard and Heloise was exquisite; both appearing to be sleeping on their marble bed. Chopin's angel was surrounded by mounds of fresh flowers and Oscar Wilde's winged Egyptian monument was covered with lipstick kisses. Sara laughed when Bizzy wished for lipstick to leave her impression. The Victor Noir bronze figure made both laugh as they watched men and women rub certain parts of his anatomy; giggling, Bizzy covered her eyes when women stroked his crotch and loudly wished for a long satisfying love-life. They walked for nearly four hours, finding Isadora Duncan, Victor Hugo, Honore' de Balzac, Proust and war memorials among the elaborate and simple tombs before deciding hunger was calling them back to the living world.

A Metro ride got them to Sacre Coeur, or at least the station, and a thousand steps got them to the basilica at the highest point in Paris. The tall church glistened with almost blinding whiteness while the inside sparkled with the gold, white and blue mosaic ceiling. Sara and Bizzy stood in silence as they gazed at the amazing work of long-ago artisans.

"I want to buy some things, Mom," Bizzy whispered as she pointed to a small church gift shop. In French, Bizzy asked to look at a tray of small crosses displayed on a velvet tray and began selecting several from the box. Sara knew the child was buying crosses for the sisters who were their neighbors.

Bizzy's curiosity about churches and religion had grown over several years; Sara had questioned her child, gently and infrequently about her interest in religion, getting a response of "I like the stories and the saints." Sara thought her daughter found the significance of history and culture in religion.

Bizzy counted her money and took the small bag. "I got one for Ava, Annie, and Aunt Catherine, too." She said as a smile came across her face.

~~Celebrating their last night in Paris, dinner was early—an assortment of food purchased that day and what was left in the refrigerator—with a walk to the local pastry shop. There the children selected a favorite, a difficult decision on any day, made more difficult knowing they would not be returning the next day. The names of each dessert rolled off their tongues with little effort—Choux Chantilly, Bresiliennes, Buchette Delice, Bavaroise, Brioche aux Sucre, and Savoyard—small cakes and tarts and pastries with chocolate and cream, strawberries and cookies, fancy sugars and rum flavoring. Speaking French had easily become a game for the Grissom children, each trying to learn more words, provide an appropriate response, and interpret signs quicker than another.

Packing would wait until the morning as Grissom brought out an old children's book he had found poking around in one of the open-air stalls. He handed the book to Will who begin reading the story of a man lost in a desert. It had long been a favorite story and this copy from 1943 with illustrations by the author was in French. Will read a chapter, stumbling over a few words, but managing to delight himself and his listeners as he read. He passed the book to one of his sisters as each took turns reading the story of _Le Petit Prince_.

Catherine sat across from the kids and their father and listened as each child read a familiar story. Will moved, crawling into his mother's lap and closed his eyes. Gradually, within an hour, Ava and Annie nestled against their father and went to sleep. Before the story was finished, Bizzy passed the book to Grissom.

"Will you read next, Dad," she said. "This is my favorite chapter."

To Catherine's surprise, Grissom read, in acceptable French, the story of the boy-prince befriending the fox. _"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeu. L'essential est invisible pour les yeux."_ (It is only with the heart that one can see rightly. What is essential is invisible to the eye.) He closed the book.

Bizzy had closed her eyes only to open them as Grissom's voice became silent. "I love this chapter," she said. Grissom's hand patted her foot. The other children were already asleep, spread across the sofa and Will in Sara's lap.

"Time for bed, sweetheart."

She stirred and got up. "Can we come back again?"

"We will."

She kissed her father, Catherine, and her mother before going to bed.

~~Catherine stood next to Sara with the kids lined up in front of them, Grissom leading the way onto the plane. They were dressed for traveling, comfortable clothes, sweaters or jackets and small bags or backpacks with items they thought they needed for a flight of twelve hours.

"Thank goodness for direct flights," Sara said as they moved passed the last security check and ticket scanning.

The warmth of an early summer day in Paris was in full force, bright sunshine, vast gardens of flowers were bursting in a bright rainbow of colors, as they were driven to the airport. The children had been unusually quiet, faces to windows of the van as they watched the old city disappear into a new metropolis surrounding the airport.

"Sara, I don't know how you manage all of this," Catherine said as she passed her ticket under the scanner. "I have trouble keeping myself together."

Sara laughed as they caught up with others and found their seats, stowed little bags on the floor, and arranged everyone in a seat with an adult. Eli and Catherine sat together, Grissom had Ava and Annie sitting on either side, and Sara was in the row with Bizzy and Will. The excitement of travel returned to the kids as departure procedures were announced, the jet rolled away from the jet bridge, and lined up for take-off.

They had cleared land before the lunch meals were rolled out—the children were fascinated by this novel way of eating with everything wrapped and served from rolling carts. Later, over head lights were dimmed and movies on small screens glowed and reflected on faces as the airplane crossed time zones and the ocean. Slowly, hours passed and almost everyone on board managed to sleep.

Catherine dreamily reflected on all she had seen and enjoyed on the trip, the monuments, the shopping, the food, and the family. She looked across the aisle; Grissom was asleep with two curly haired little bodies wrapped and curled across his legs, his arms around each. Sara was reading with Will's head in her lap and Bizzy leaned against her shoulder, also asleep.

This family, she thought, had been the pleasure of the trip. The brightness of their faces, the good-natured laughter almost all the time, their care for each other had meant each day was anchored with a happiness and contentment not always seen in families. In two short weeks since she had arrived at their home, she had grown to love them even more than she thought possible. She would have never foreseen this future for Sara and Gil, not when Sara abruptly left Vegas and Grissom seemed to carry on in his usual self-absorbed mode. She had gotten a hint of how long they had been together when visiting him one night—she grinned thinking about the photograph she found.

After Warrick died—she reached for the hand of the boy sitting beside her—they had been swept into a period of such sadness that it was difficult for any of them to find comfort, much less console another. Sara had left after several weeks; much later, Catherine would learn more as she realized Gil would leave too. She had missed him more than she could ever put into words. It seemed a whirlwind overtook their lives when Bizzy arrived, then Eli ended up in the Grissom home, and within a year, the twins were born. Catherine had visited and seen the serenity of their lives in the midst of the bedlam and commotion of five small children.

She sighed, repositioned herself slightly sideways so she could recline and stretch her legs. Her eyes were closing when movement came into her vision. She glanced at Grissom. He had moved his arm and reached forward to the seat in front of him. His hand rested on the top of Sara's head. Her hand came up, and for a moment, their fingers entwined, before he withdrew his hand and Sara continued reading. Catherine smiled; Grissom had never opened his eyes.

_Epilogue_:

The trip was uneventful, arriving safely late in the night, finding their home just as they had left it with the exception of fresh bread and milk, fruits and home-made cookies waiting on the table. And it was devoured in minutes, bread made into familiar sandwiches, as everyone talked and kids ran around with new found energy.

Much later, Catherine heard water running; she knew it was filling the tub in the master bath even though she was on the second floor. She rolled over and grinned, thinking about those panties.

~~Grissom knew the long flight, the hyperactivity of the kids once home, and getting them to sleep had added to Sara's exhaustion. Of course, he had talked to Catherine while Sara had seen to baths and beds and she was still in the kitchen. He knew she would hear the water and join him.

"Is this for me?" Her soft voice came from behind him. Taking her hand, he led her to the tub and unbuttoned her shirt as she unzipped her pants. She stepped into the tub. "This is heaven," she sighed as she sank into the hot water, her arms floating as she leaned back.

He left her to soak, returning with towels and clean clothes.

She bent her knees. "Join me—you are just as exhausted."

Grissom needed no further encouragement as he peeled off clothes and glided into the tub behind her. They talked about nothing and everything, content to be alone and silent at times. Sara actually dozed while Grissom held her. Finally, when fingers were wrinkled like prunes, they stepped from the tub, dried and dressed, knowing morning would come to early.

Sara had long ago understood the amazing power of her husband. His touch, even a look, could rouse passion in her, and over the years, their love for each other had grown stronger. Rarely more than two or three days passed without some intimate physical expression of that love—the actual act of lovemaking, or a shower or bath together—they found these acts as necessary as breathing. Tonight, the shared bath was enough. Sara turned into his arms, felt his damp hair against her cheek, before a kiss landed on her neck.

"I love you," they said at the same time causing both to chuckle.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Incredibly so."

_La Fin_ or The End

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed this trip to Paris! Forgive us for not taking you to all the favorite places! Look for another story mid-month or so as we have a couple of reasons to celebrate coming up! Thank you so much for your reviews and comments. _


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